The Hunt for His Heart
by HannaDee1616
Summary: StevexOC
1. Preface

Hey guys! Just taking an Avengers fanfic for a spin! Hope you enjoy! I tried to do something a little different…I wanted Steve to meet a girl in an unexpected way that really tests his ability to trust again.

PREFACE

The clicking of expensive Italian dress shoes on a cold tile floor echo trhough those empty halls. The man pulled out his telephone, pulling up the security camera feed that he so often used to check up on his…guest. He had man "guests" that were fortunate enough to stay under _his _roof, but this one was of special interest to him.

His eyes greedily appraised her on the screen. Despite the late hour, she twisted and turned restlessly on her cot, her eyes staring blankly into the wall as if she could picture her dreamlike escape. She wasn't currently controlled. He found, over time, that her gifts made her harder to keep under his trance. He knew that he had to move quickly, while his window of opportunity was wide open. Nearing her cell door, he placed the device back in his pocket. The guards silently and respectfully moved out of his way. He scanned his security pass and, after he heard the key pad beep in approval, he opened the door to come face to face with the most powerful spy that he had ever come to train.

Upon seeing him, her eyes widened in fear. She backed away from him, hands up in pleading.

"Please," she begged, "don't make me-"

But it had been too late. He had reached down and placed his index, middle, and ring fingers upon her forehead. She whimpered, and he reveled in this scene for just a moment. Oh, of course, she had fought him before. Many times, in fact. She was defiant naturally but after more than fifteen years with no way of escaping this life, she had realized the hopelessness of her situation. He glowed in her fear; it gave him power. He felt the bloodlust for authority overcome him. Her eyes glazed over, taking on an iridescent glow. He knew he had her.

"You have a new mission, Canine."

She stood from her cot, her glowing eyes finding his. "Anything, Mr. Price. I aim to kill."

"Yes," he said, a smirk forming at her mindless obedience, "you do."


	2. Chapter 1

ONE

It had been three months since Loki's attack. The Avengers, after having scattered to take a well deserved vacation, found that the bond that they had formed didn't allow them to be separated for very long.

Bruce Banner returned to New York first. After a short stay at Stark Tower with Tony, he had attempted to return to India and continue his solitude; he found quickly that he could no longer live without companionship. He felt like he had a home with the Avengers…a family of sorts. And so he appeared on Tony's doorstep only a month later, looking for a roommate.

Shortly after Bruce came Steve. The second he rode away from his friends on his vintage motorcycle, he knew he would return. His pride, however, wouldn't allow him to look to Tony Stark for help. He struggled on his own in this new world, and after hearing that Bruce had returned, swallowed his pride and came back to New York. At least the group of heroes offered him something familiar. (This was more than he could say for the rest of the modern world.) After he arrived at Stark Tower, he had reasoned that "someone needed to keep Stark in line". Nonetheless, Tony took the Captain in with open arms.

Clint and Natasha, whom Tony knew were a package deal, had both respectfully declined his and Pepper's generous offer to reside in Stark Tower. Dr. Banner, Mr. Stark, and the Captain lived with that decision, slightly disappointed, until a SHIELD mission gone wrong had led Natasha's cozy apartment into the crosshairs. Pepper had insisted she take refuge at the Tower. Natasha agreed, albeit grudgingly. Clint returned the very next day, claiming that "he'd missed 'Tasha too much to stay away". He then released a throaty chuckle at the Black Widow's uncharacteristic blush.

Jane Foster agreed to notify Thor of the new living arrangement as soon as he returned to Earth for his next visit. He took many leaves of absence, due to his duties on Asgard, but a room for him was always available when he was down for a vacation.

Living together was, surprisingly, easier than they thought. Without the pressure of the world literally on their shoulders, the heroes were at ease. Pepper, however, was the glue that held them together. She would ease the tensions, hanging out with Natasha when girl time was much needed, and keeping between Tony and Steve when their claws came out.

Two months passed, then another six, and then before they knew it they were celebrating the year anniversary of Earth's survival under Loki's attack together in the tower, as it seemed they should be.

It was an ironically warm and sunny summer day when their much needed time for peace was interrupted. That day started just as normal as all of the others. After trudging out of their suites for a late breakfast, Clint, Natasha, and Steve had set off to the gym for their merciless training. Dr. Banner and Tony rushed off to their conjoined labs speaking in a language that none of the others quite believed was English. Pepper answered calls and signed papers in her office all day taking short breaks to visit her genius, billionaire, philanthropist boyfriend. (She chose to ignore the "playboy" part, for obvious reasons.)

It was around dinner time when all hell broke loose.

They were all seated around the plasma screen, waiting on their Chinese Take-Out. Steve was absent-mindedly sketching, ignoring their 21st Century banter, when his superhuman hearing picked up a slight scuffle from down the hall. He brushed it off.

_Some of the most powerful heroes in the world live here, _he thought, _its probably nothing. _

Natasha, however, noticed the Captain's shoulders tense up, his eyes narrowing but never leaving his sketchbook; he was listening for something.

"Cap," she started, "is there something-"

She was interrupted by a terrified scream. Instantly, they were all uup, knowing exactly who and where it had come from. It was Tony who, wide eyed and breaking into a run, said,

"Pepper."


	3. Chapter 2

TWO

The Avengers split into action, boxes of Chinese food long forgotten as Tony and Steve sprinted to the young CEO's office. While one felt a worried twisting in his gut, the other felt his adrenaline and leadership skills kick in. Usually, Steve's speed would have far surpassed that of Tony's, but the man seemed to have gained a new strength in his legs. He was slightly ahead of Steve when they entered upon the office, taken aback by what they saw there.

Tony's eyes flew immediately to Pepper, who was backed into a corner, wide eyed and palms up in surrender as her attacker had her forearm pressed up against Pepper's throat. As if she knew that they had entered before they did, the woman's face was already turned towards the door. It was then that Steve observed the threat.

He saw a young woman (he estimated around twenty-one years of age) dressed in an all-black catsuit very similar to Natasha's. Under different circumstances, her get-up would have had Steve stuttering and blushing. Her long, pitch black hair was tied into a ponytail, and he felt a shiver run through him when he saw an angry pink scar running from her temple down to her jaw line.

But, even more disturbing than the scar, were her eyes.

Steve had never seen anything like them; they were wide and vacant, taking on a distinct glow that an only be described as demonic. The woman exerted more force upon Pepper's throat, causing Pepper to let out a strangled gasp. With that, Steve and Tony sprang into action.

The woman dropped Pepper, who quickly fell to the floor in a heap of gasps and sobs. Tony rushed to her side, whispering things Steve couldn't hear into her ear as he cradled her in his arms. Steve ran to the attacker, deflecting her every skilled blow as he called out to Tony.

"Stark, get her out of here!"

"You don't have to tell me twice." Tony scoffed, carrying Pepper as he rushed out of the door; Natasha brushed by them on her way in. The woman removed her eyes from Steve to analyze Natasha for just one moment, and Steve knew he had his opportunity. He lifted his fist to strike, but hesitated just briefly; attacker or no, this was a woman. Steve found difficulty trying to hit her; he was raised to never lay a finger on a lady. He shook his head, clearing these thoughts, and aimed for her gut, but his hesitation was all she needed. She dropped low, sweeping her leg under his feet, effectively knocking him over. She moved over him, gun now in hand, and aimed directly for his face.

Panic set in. He rolled to the side and sprang back up. He knocked the gun from her hand, and she swung her opposite arm over to hit him in the jaw. He caught it and twisted it forcefully behind her back, eliciting a yell of pain from her. She elbowed him in the gut attempting to get him to loosen his grip in surprise, but his enhanced body served him well. Unflinchingly, he reached around her body to grab her other wrist and secured it in his hold behind her back.

Her shoulders violently pulled and shook as she attempted to escape, and Steve was surprised to feel the strength in her arms. Her attempts, however, were in vain. Her strength simply could not compare to the super soldier's.

Natasha, who was previously stationed at Pepper's computer, moved over to them.

"We need to knock her out. She was here for something. Fury will want to see her." She bared, clearly in Black Widow Mode. Steve's eyes widened slightly, unsure if he could do that to a woman. He began to protest,

" Are you sure we can't just-"

But he had been too late. Natasha had moved in, landing a harsh punch to the girl's temple. Steve thought he felt her arms relax in his grip, and he had assumed that she was losing consciousness. Natasha lifted her fist to strike again, but something stopped her.

She lowered her fist slowly, her gaze disbelieving as she looked into the woman's face. To say that Steve was confused would be an understatement. Not once, ever, had he seen Natasha hesitate.

"Natasha?" He began to ask, codenames long forgotten. "What is it? What's wrong?"

She stood in silence, her fist now completely lowered to her side.

"Her eyes.." Natasha began.

Steve looked down into the face of their intruder, and was shocked at what he saw there. The girls eyes, which had at first been a solid and glowing white, were flickering. They literally flickered from their glowing white to a vivid green, and then back to white again, over and over. Steve began to notice that the white-eyed woman would struggle against his grip, but the green eyed one would relax her limbs and sag her shoulders.

Over the course of a minute, the white eyes began to show less and less, and finally a pair of glazed over green ones appeared. The woman almost fell to the floor, and Steve found himself supporting her weight. He looked into her eyes again, just in time to see her hazy, dream-like look change to one he had seen many times.

It was the look of pure fear.

She scrambled out of his now loosened grip and backed up from them both. Tears were now streaming down her face. Steve moved toward her.

"Please!" she pleaded, feeling fear stirring inside of herself as Steve moved toward her. "Stay away from me. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," she whimpered. Her back hit the wall and she flinched, knowing she was trapped. She slid down it until she was on the floor, her arms wrapped around her bended knees. Sobs wracked her body.

Steve felt something inside of him stir. He looked to Natasha, who looked to be as confused as he was. As soon as the super soldier and the spy made eye contact, they both knew that the girl wasn't a threat. They had fought off superspies and aliens-they knew when they were in the presence of danger.

Steve approached her slowly, crouching down to her eye level. As if in slow motion, he reached his hand out to her.

"Hi," he said softly, looking into her green eyes, "I'm Steve. This is Natasha. We're not going to hurt you."

She looked at his outstretched hand, but never took it. With a shaky breath, she brought her eyes back up to his.

"You don't understand," she started, "I'm not afraid that you'll hurt _me_. I'm afraid that someone else is going to make me hurt _you._"


	4. Chapter 3

THREE

"What the hell is she doing here?! She's dangerous!" Tony sprang up and yelled as soon as Steve and Natasha entered the room with the woman. Pepper cowered behind his frame, her eyes widening slightly as she saw her attacker. The assassin felt a flare of anger and shame well up inside her; she _was _dangerous, and she most certainly shouldn't have been there. She moved to speak, but Steve beat her to the punch.

"She's not a threat, Stark."

"I would beg to differ, judging by the massive bruise on my girlfriend's throat." Tony snapped hotly, gripping Pepper's waist tighter. The attacker's eyes widened seeing Pepper's injury. She new she probably shouldn't speak, but she couldn't refrain,

"I know you're not happy with me, but I just want you to know that words cannot describe how sorry I am."

"That's a new one." Clint said, his eyes squinting as if she were a bomb he was trying to diffuse.

"I will repeat, she's not a threat." Steve said, almost defensive of the girl standing next to him.

"Nat..?" Cling asked for confirmation. If anyone in the room of heroes was a perfect judge of character, it was Natasha. The woman was bluntly honest and didn't take crap from anyone. If anyone would know one hundred percent whether this woman was or was not a threat it would be her.

"The Cap is right. She means us no harm." The room's tension level died down. "She does, however have some serious explaining to do."

All eyes traveled to the woman, who's gaze was downcast; she was avoiding eye contact with them all.

"I don't even know how much of this I can understand. There's so much to explain to you all." She finally spoke, her voice wavering slightly.

"Why don't you start by telling us your name." Steve said gently, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. The girl's hand flew to her throat, her fingers finding a gold pendant there.

"I think…I think my name is Nora."

"It all started when I was six or so." She began, avoiding eye contact with all of those seated around her. "I remember that I was out with my mom that day. At least, I think that she was my mom." She shook her head, as if trying to clear the confusion from her thoughts. She took a shaky breath before continuing, "I remember that one minute, my mom was watching me; she had a hold of my hand. She let go, just for a moment, and then I was lost. I couldn't find her anywhere. There were so many people. I've thought about where I was for years. A shopping mall, maybe? A grocery store? I don't know." She had a stormy look in her eye. The room could feel her anger and pain. "I was running, looking for her, but instead ran straight into a huge man. He picked me up and carried me out of wherever we were; that was the last time I ever saw my mother." You could literally cut the tension in the room with a butter knife.

"That man took me to some facility. There were other kids there. Some were around my age, but others were teenagers. It didn't click for me until I was ten or eleven; these kids were all taken, just like me. They all had families that were missing them, families that they would barely remember in a matter of years. It made me angry. So I started fighting the program. I was done being sad and defenseless. I wanted to escape. The guards caught me sneaking out of my room that I shared with four other girls. They made a show out of giving me this." She ran her finger down the scar on her face, wincing as if she could still feel the blade on her skin. Pepper gasped, unshed tears in her eyes. "I was only twelve. From there on out, I got 'special treatment'." She made finger quotes in the air. "There was no more interacting with the other kids. I got my own cell, and was never permitted to leave unless it was for training."

"Wait. What type of training?" Bruce asked, pushing his glasses up his nose and then crossing his arms.

"Well, they kept me educated with tutors every day, and then I had physical training in the evenings. All of the kids did, from the first day we were brought into the system. They taught me almost every form of combat and self defense known to man. At first, I didn't want to submit to their ways. They liked violence." She shuddered at the memory. "But after my escape attempt, I wasn't allowed to spar with the other kids anymore, so I was forced to fight the guards. Let's just say they weren't as merciful. I had to learn in order to keep myself from getting killed. It wasn't unheard of there. A kid would piss off a guard, and then the next day they wouldn't be at meals. And the days after. It wasn't hard for us to figure out what had happened."

Tears were now streaming down Pepper's face. The room was somber as Nora told her story. Perhaps it was because they could relate; in fact, a majority of the Avengers did not know normalcy. Like Nora, they were misfits. They didn't have a place. Even Tony, who's arm clung tightly to Pepper's waist, was sporting a deep frown.

"When they started trying to send me on missions, I got a little too defiant. They wanted me to kill real people. Sure, they had at least thirty other agents who would've been overjoyed to do the job, but they needed me specifically. For my gifts. They called me Canine, because can find anyone in the world. Even if I don't know them, all I need is a picture. Kind of like a hunting dog, I can follow their trail. I have above average sight and hearing. That kind of thing sort of comes in handy when you need to find and kill someone. The organization could save _weeks _worth of stalking and research for a mission if they just used me. But I refused."

"That's how you knew Steve and I were coming before we were even in your line of sight." Tony spoke up. She nodded in affirmation.

"But she didn't know that Natasha was coming-she wasn't expecting her." Steve thought aloud.

"You're very light on your feet." Nora said, making eye contact with Natasha. "Not many people can sneak up on me."

Natasha smirked at the irony; Loki had told her the exact same thing a year ago.

"So, if you refused, why were you here tonight? And what was wrong with-" Steve started to ask.

"My eyes?" She asked. He nodded.

"Yeah, not to be rude, but I felt like I was in 'The Exorcist'." Tony quipped. Pepper gasped, smacking him in the chest.

"Tony!" She scolded, "Don't be an ass."

"No, its alright." Nora said, holding up a hand to stop Pepper. "It probably looked about as frightening as it feels. Do you all remember how I said I refused to go on missions?" Everyone nodded. "They needed me. Desperately. But you'll find that I'm a stubborn woman." She laughed darkly. "I managed to refuse their demands for a solid week. When they finally realized that I couldn't be persuaded, they decided it was time for me to meet Mr. Price." A cold hatred rang within her voice. "You see, you cant just say 'no' to Mr. Price. He's like me. Like all of you. He has a gift. He touches you on your forehead, like this," She held her three longest fingers to the center of her forehead, but quickly removed them as if her skin was too hot to touch, "and he can make you do whatever he wants. It's like a living hell. You can see what you're doing, if he wants you to see it, but you have no control over your own body. Its like he's put you on auto pilot and you can't turn it off. For five years, since I was eighteen, I've been killing people. Destroying families. And I couldn't do anything but watch as it happened." A single tear rolled down her cheek. She hastily wiped it away, as if in disgust. The room was dead silent. "Although my head hurts, Natasha, I have to thank you. For waking me up. I never thought I would see freedom from that hell hole."

"It was my genuine pleasure." Natasha joked darkly, a smirk forming on her lips. Steve and Bruce gaped, finding Natasha's comment rude, given Nora's circumstances.

There must've, however, been an inter-spy humor amongst them, because Nora seemed to find her comment highly entertaining. She laughed a small, hearty laugh. Steve couldn't help but think that it was a beautiful sound. Tony rose from the couch and brushed off his pants. For one fleeting moment, Nora thought that the brash movement was out of a residing anger towards her.

_I mean, I did try to kill his girlfriend._ She thought with a grimace. Then he spoke.

"JARVIS, can you see to it that we have a room prepared for our guest?"

"No! I can't possibly-" Nora began to protest.

"You can." Tony cut her off. "I believe your story. I have no idea why you were here tonight, or if we can even trust you, but I'd rather have you right under my nose than out on the streets if you're an enemy of mine. Either way, you have no where to live and I have more than enough room. Tomorrow, I'll send you with Natasha and Pepper to get you some new clothes. Until then, I'm sure she can borrow something?" He looked to Pepper, who nodded in approval.

"Absolutely!" Pepper said kindly. "Why don't you come with me? I'm sure we can find something for you…" Her voice drifted down the hallway and out of ear shot as she herded Nora towards hers and Tony's room. As they disappeared, Clint spoke up.

"Stark. Are you sure about this? Can we even trust her? I mean, her story is sad and all, but this is the oldest trick in the book. Tell some sob story, gain our trust, stab us in the back. You know that."

"Okay, Bird-Man," Hawkeye growled at the nickname. "first; we are Earth's greatest heroes. If we can't sense a threat, we're kind of useless. I'm pretty sure we all knew that girl was sincere; depressing, but sincere. Second; despite popular belief, I do have a heart. We can't just leave her on the streets. If Price were to get to her again, people could die. She's safest here."

"Or…he really wants to get laid tonight." Natasha joked from her seat on the couch.

"Pepper loves a charitable billionaire." Tony suggestively said, waggling his eyebrows.

"Your complete lack of manners never fails to shock me, Stark." Steve sassed, moving towards the billionaire with his arms crossed. "She's not a charity case. She's lost and she needs a safe place to stay, but she's obviously capable of taking care of herself."

"Getting defensive over your new girlfriend, Captain? I mean, I guess I can't blame you…that catsuit does amazing things for her-" Steve moved to cut him off, but they both stopped short when they saw Nora walking down the hallway in black shorts and a hoodie, her catsuit and new clothes folded up in her arms. Wordlessly, she passed them, heading for the hallway. She stopped before going any further, and turned to face them.

"Pepper said I could stay in room 7-C. I hope that's okay." She stated, looking into Tony's eyes from across the room.

"Picture perfect." Tony said innocently, but the others in the room knew he wasn't thinking about the room she would be staying in. Steve resisted the urge to hit him.

"I can't thank you enough, Mr. Stark." She commented.

"Call me Tony." He said with a wink.

"Okay, Tony." She said, a small smirk forming on her face as she continued. "I would explain to you how I am most certainly _not _a charity case, but I know that Steve has already come to my aid." Steve began to blush, knowing she'd heard their conversation. "I will, however, accept the compliment on the suit." And with that, she turned again and headed down the hallway towards room 7-C.

"I like her. She's spunky." Tony said, unaffected.

"Super hearing." Bruce pondered aloud. "This should be interesting."


	5. Chapter 4

FOUR

Nora stepped into room 7-C, but was sure to leave the door wide open. Her sensitive ears picked up Bruce's soft, yet firm baritone,

"Super hearing. This should be interesting."

She let out a breathy chuckle, but it quickly hitched in her throat. It had been so long since she had last laughed; it was a strange feeling to her now. She looked around the room.

She had a bed. A real bed. Across from it, mounted on the wall, was a plasma screen TV. She remembered having one when she was a child. She and her parents would sit on the couch together, every weekend, and watch movies. She remembered her favorite being Snow White and the Seven Dwarves. She could feel her eyes begin to sting, as they so often did when she let her mind drift to those types of memories. All they ever led to was pain.

She shook her head to clear these thoughts and walked slowly towards the bed. She gingerly set down the bundle of clothes Pepper had given her onto the soft comforter. She doubted that they would fit her, but she appreciated the gesture. Pepper not only towered over her five foot six frame, but her figure was smaller. Pepper had a slight, lanky build that differed greatly from Nora's athletic and curvy one.

Her hand lingered on the mattress for a moment. She ran her palm across the fabric there. This was all just so surreal. Not once, ever, had she contemplated what would happen if she were to escape the facility. She never thought that it would be a reality, and Nora was never one to give in to false hope. Especially after she had seen it destroy so many kids.

She padded into the bathroom, once again leaving the door wide open as she approached the counter, looking into the mirror. Her pitch black hair, pulled into a painfully tight ponytail, was tangled at the ends. Her lightly tanned face was sporting a large bruise. Natasha packed a mean punch, but Nora was used to treating injuries. She reached up to lightly touch the bruise, but instead found her index finger trailing down the length of her scar.

She had given up hope the very second she felt the cool metal of that blade hit her skin eleven years ago. She remembered it as if it were yesterday. Two of the guards had held her down while the third made slow work of maiming her for life. The girls, who were woken up and made to watch, were all younger than she and observed in horrer as the guards "made an example of her".

From that night on, she dedicated her life to survival _inside _of the facility. She knew she'd never escape, so rather than wasting years hoping that her parents would find her, she trained harder. She was determined not to be the next kid that just disappeared. She refused to show weakness.

Sighing, she peeked at the bed once again. And then she knew

There was no way in hell she would be getting some sleep any time soon.

Steve never slept much. He had attempted night after night, laying back on his bed and staring at the ceiling. As soon as he would close his eyes, he would be plagued by images of his past. He would see Peggy, Bucky, Dr. Erskine…all people he had failed. It physically pained him to sleep. The nightmares were enough to wake him within a matter of hours, panting and eyes wildly searching for the speeding bullet, the crashing plane, or the half destroyed train car with Bucky hopelessly dangling for his life. The fear of reliving these things every night was enough to keep Steve well caffeinated and far from his bed.

Even more frightful than the night terrors, however, was the fear that he would close his eyes just to open them to another seventy years gone by. More friends he was forced to leave behind. More heartbreak.

So, in order to avoid this pain, he thought about the present. He tried to learn about the history he missed; after reading about mass genocides and terrorist attacks, he only put forth more effort into saving the world from itself.

He groaned, closing his sketchbook and tossing it and his charcoal pencil to the side. He stood, rubbing his eyes with one hand and letting a yawn escape.

He needed coffee. Stat.

For a moment, he thought twice about walking through the Tower's halls in his sweatpants and bare chest. He decided against it, grabbing a white t-shirt and pulling it on. He knew that he wasn't the only one who had problems with nightmares amongst the Avengers, and he had learned the hard way to expect the unexpected after an awkward run-in with Natasha several months ago.

He slowly walked out of his door, hearing it click quietly as he shut it behind him. He moved down the hallway, passing closed doors until he came out into Tony's spacious loft living room. The glass windows allowed a view of New York's skyline from the top of Stark Tower. At the far right end there was a glass door that you could walk out of onto Tony's balcony and launch pad, where Loki himself had placed the Tesseract Portal only a year ago. His eyes stopped there, for a moment, as he saw a small silhouette. He quickly put on a pot of coffee in the kitchen before heading out onto the circular launch pad.

She was seated in the center of the pad, at the very end of the walkway. Her back was facing him, but he knew that she had heard him come. She had her legs curled up to her chest her arms clinging around them as if for dear life. Wordlessly, he sat down beside her.

They didn't speak for a long time. She stared at the skyline as if she couldn't quite believe her eyes. He knew because he had held that same expression on his own face when he had re-entered the world. He took his chance, while she was distracted, to observe her.

Her raven hair had natural wave, and it fell down to the middle of her back. Her unnaturally bright green eyes were narrowed in a skeptical manner, one of her thin eyebrows slightly raised. Her nose, like the rest of her features, was delicate. It sloped down perfectly to end just above her lips, which were a pale pink and had a natural pout. She had a spray of dark freckles that dusted around her nose and cheekbones and, to Steve's intrigue, her eyelids.

Steve thought that she was beautiful. He blushed at his staring and quickly turned away. Not, however, before he thought he saw a lovely flush in her cheeks. He thought of her features again, and felt that familiar shiver run through his body at the sight of her scar. Now that he had heard her story, he felt sadness stir in him when he saw it.

He thought of her story; Captain America would feel unsure of the girl's intentions, but Steve Rogers felt the strange need to trust her. Perhaps it was the way that she was completely alone, or how she was also so rudely taken from her world, but he felt as if she might be the only person he'd ever met that could understand what he had been through.

"Couldn't sleep?" She finally asked, turning her green eyes to meet his. Steve felt relieved to see their real color and not the haunting white that they had been earlier.

"No, Ma'am." He said wryly, turning to look out to New York City. At one point in his life he could've told someone that the city was familiar to him like the back of his hand. Now, he wasn't so sure. "I usually can't."

"Nightmares?" She asked simply.

"I…yeah." Steve stuttered, his cheeks glowing slightly in embarrassment. She released a bitter laugh.

"I know how that goes." She muttered, turning her body to face him rather than the city. He could feel the tips of her toes gently pressing into his thigh. "Thank you." She said, after a while.

"For what?" Steve asked, his eyebrows scrunched up in confusion.

"I… I don't know. For believing me, I guess." She ventured. "You had every reason not to, but you did."

"I believe in giving people the benefit of the doubt, Ma'am." He said gently, looking at her. She looked so lost, and Steve found himself wondering how she was able to stay so strong. He had been a mess for days after he'd woken up.

"Yeah," She started, leaning her pointed chin onto her knees, "that. Kindness. I'm not used to that."

"Not a lot of people are, now-a-days." He stated sadly. "Where I come from, kindness and caring for others was a trait that most people had. Now, it's almost a rarity."

"Where is it, exactly, that you come from?" She asked, "It sounds nice there." She finished with a small smile. He laughed a low, friendly laugh. This woman didn't know his story, and he found that refreshing. For once, he was Steve Rogers first, and Captain America second.

"It's a long story." He said, feeling that recurring pain in his chest as he thought of his past.

"Well, Steve, for the first time in my life, I've got time."


	6. Chapter 5

FIVE

For the first time, Steve told someone everything. He told Nora about how he'd enlisted five times, about Dr. Erskine and the transformation, and about the people-his friends-that he had left behind. She had sat through it all quietly, laughing occasionally when he told her a funny story about Bucky or frowning when he mentioned something sad. He had felt a fraction of the burden of his past leave with every word, until the only pain left in his heart was a dull ache.

"Jeez, Steve, no wonder you have nightmares." She commented, hesitantly placing her hand lightly on his for just a moment before pulling it back. He blushed at the slight tingling on the back of his hand, where her fingers had just rested. "So…you're Captain America." She stated. "Wow." Steve nodded, staring into the skyline. They sat in silence, once again, for a few moments. Steve looked to her, his lips slightly parted as he began to make a comment, but he closed them when he saw the tears welling in her eyes. He panicked slightly, his mind scrambling for the right thing to do or say. He was never good at talking to dames.

"Nora." He said softly and she turned, embarrassed that he caught her so weak. "What's wrong?"

"Steve," she whispered brokenly, and he found himself liking how his name rolled from her lips, "What's it like?"

"What's what like, Ma'am?"

"What's it like to help people? To do good instead of…" She couldn't finish as fresh streams of tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Hey…" he said softly, scooting closer to her. He awkwardly put an arm around her shoulders and widened his eyes in surprise as she dove her face into the crook between his shoulder and neck, her small hand gripping his shirt tightly. He had absolutely no idea what to do in this situation.

So, he answered her question honestly.

"It's…probably one of the most rewarding experiences I could have ever dedicated my life to." He started, trying but failing to ignore the tickle of her nose sliding against his neck. He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "It's the little things that make it worthwhile. The letters some people send. Keeping families together. Going to bed feeling like you did all you could." She sniffled. He could feel his shirt begin to dampen with her tears.

"Steve…I've done so many things. Bad things. I've killed people." She mumbled against his shoulder. His grip around her tightened, but he made sure to keep his arm appropriately around her shoulder.

"Shh…it wasn't your fault. He made you do those things." He prayed he was saying the right things. He really was not good at this.

"He's a sick bastard." She said angrily, sitting up quickly and harshly wiping away her tears. Steve found himself missing the feel of her frame under his arm. "He made me remember."

"Remember what, exactly?" Steve asked her, slightly dreading to hear the answer.

"Every mission I went on, every person I killed…the next day I would wake up in my cell. I never could remember anything from the day before except for the people I killed. I could see them, their faces. Hear them…" She sobbed again, huddling into a ball. He shoulders shook violently. Steve felt horror and rage build up inside of him. Price had made this wonderful, kind woman kill people against her own will and chose to torture her with the memories. It made Steve feel sick to his stomach. For once, Steve didn't think about what the right thing to do was. He did what his gut told him to do.

He reached for her, gently pulling her into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her protectively and rested his chin on her head. His cheeks were burning at his bold move, but as he held her shaking form, he couldn't shake this feeling.

It was the weird feeling that she seemed to fit perfectly there. In his arms.


	7. Chapter 6

SIX

She couldn't decide whether it as her total lack of sleep, or the fact that she had never had many material possessions before, but Nora quickly discove3ered that she didn't enjoy shopping.

She had left with Pepper and Natasha early in the morning after a quick breakfast. They had stopped in almost every store they had passed and, to Nora's dismay, had quite a large budget. When she had insisted that they go somewhere cheaper, Pepper literally shoved a hand over her mouth and said,

"Benefit of having a billionaire boyfriend: I have a huge shopping fund. Don't worry about it."

From there on out, Pepper seemed to be all business as she personally put together a wardrobe for her. Nora did as she was told, trying on what Pepper told her to and not complaining about it. She'd hoped they might be done when they stopped for lunch, but to her surprise, the afternoon was just as scheduled with trips to various shops. By three, Nora's back and feet were killing her. Natasha was beginning to look just as irritable, and Nora wondered why Tony had requested that she come.

_He probably didn't trust me alone with Pepper. _She thought sadly. She wanted so badly to gain their trust-to prove herself to them. She was desperate to make real connections with people, but she found trouble trying to open up to the two women as the day wore on. She had lived her whole life having to remain guarded; this was all new to her.

Pepper, who realized Nora was having difficulty letting them in, had spent the whole day keeping up a conversation with the younger woman. She kept it light, discussing things that didn't further bring up her past or her childhood.

"So, Nora," she began as she shifted through a pile of folded jeans, searching for Nora's size, "How are you feeling about rooming with us at the Tower?"

"Well," Nora really contemplated her answer, "you all seem like genuinely nice people. I look forward to getting to know the rest of you a little more."

"The rest of us?" Natasha asked, eyebrows raised.

"I mean, I had a short conversation with Steve last night. That's about it." Nora understated, not wanting to go into detail about her embarrassing meltdown the night before. She was dreading seeing Steve again; she couldn't believe that she had burdened him with her problems.

_He probably thinks I'm a nut case, _she thought bitterly.

"Oh, you talked with Steve?" Pepper asked innocently, handing Nora a large pile of clothes to try on. "How did that go?" Behind the dressing room curtain, Nora's eyes narrowed skeptically at the question.

"He's a nice guy." She said, not completely oblivious to the fact that she hadn't really answered the question.

"Yeah," Pepper said with a small smile. She thought that Steve might be the friend that Nora needed to move on with her life. "He is."

LINEBREAK

The girls returned to the Tower around five in the evening, earning bemused glances from Stark employees at the amount of shopping bags they attempted to fit into the elevator. It had been a successful day (by Pepper's standards); Nora's closet was now filled with clothes and shoes for every occasion.

The Avengers gathered around the table at six for dinner, and Nora was pleased to find out more about the people that took her in. Over the years at the facility, she had been trained to use her abilities to observe what was around her. It was because of this training that Nora saw things like the small glances that Clint and Natasha sent towards one another when the other wasn't looking, or the way that Steve's nostrils would flare occasionally at some of Tony's comments. She also noticed the way that Pepper would lovingly look at everyone around the table, obviously happy with her make-shift family.

As she ate her dinner, she began to find that she genuinely like all of the people sitting around her. She appreciated Bruce's mild mannered personality in contrast to Tony's loud and demanding, yet likeable character. She liked Natasha's sarcastic sense of humor which, she thought, complimented Clint's brooding yet not unfriendly attitude perfectly. Pepper had already proven to be one of the nicest people Nora had ever met, and Nora knew that the two of them would get along fine.

She felt a pair of eyes staring back at her, and turned to make eye contact with a pair of fleeting baby blues. She blushed, acting as though she never saw him, but this exchange didn't go unnoticed by Tony. The billionaire moved to speak, most likely with a witty insult, but instead released a small grunt as Pepper slammed her heel into his toe under the table. She had seen the whole ordeal, and didn't want to scare off their guest. Everyone at the table looked at him questioningly, but he simply shrugged and shoved a ghastly amount of food in his mouth.

While most of them decided to watch a movie in the living room after dinner, Nora was feeling the need to train. It was normally around this time of the evening at the facility that she would be forced to train, and her body was telling her that it was time to work out. She assumed that they had a training gym in the Tower, but she didn't want to interrupt the heroes' down time in the living room. Remembering Tony asking to get a room ready for her the night before, she got an idea.

"JARVIS…?" She asked hesitantly as she walked down to her room. She felt like a moron for speaking to thin air. She jumped when he replied.

"Yes, Miss Nora?"

She reveled at Tony's technology.

"Is there a gym that I can train in somewhere?" She asked shyly.

"Yes, Miss, there is. Take the elevator down a level, it'll be down the hallway and to the left."

"Thank you, JARVIS." She said, proud of herself for figuring out how to find it on her own. She swung the door to her room open, leaving it ajar as she grabbed some running shorts and a t-shirt to change into. She quickly changed in her bathroom, slipping on her shoes before walking out of her door and towards the elevator.

She followed JARVIS's instructions to the letter until she came up to an empty gym. She shuddered at the similarities between it and the one at the facility. Both had a large sparring mat, but the one in the Tower didn't have the ceiling high chain link fence to prevent its users from escaping a losing battle. There was a shooting range, almost identical to the one at the facility save for an arsenal of bows and arrows next to the gun locker. She marveled at the way the uncommon weapons seemed appealing but deadly, just like Clint. They were a unique choice, and she felt a feeling of respect for the man well up inside of her at his mastery of the trade.

She moved into the normal portion of the gym, and observed the machines that were available to her before deciding that she was in need of a long run. She stepped on the treadmill, setting the speed high and working up to a run. She immediately felt comfort from the cardio; exercising was the only way that she could ever release her stress. Back when she was in the facility, she couldn't verbally release her frustration without losing meals for days as a punishment, so her time in the gym was the only output for stress.

As her sneaker clad feet pounded against the treadmill's conveyer belt, she let her mind wander. She thought about these people that she was living with now; she hoped that they could become her friends. She thought about all that Tony and Pepper had done for her already, and she felt guilt build up inside of her. She barely remembered anything about her attack on Pepper the night before, and she wasn't even sure why Mr. Price had sent her. She grunted in frustration, turning up the speed on her treadmill. She wished that she could be of more help to them. She felt utterly useless. The only thing she could remember from the attack was forcing Pepper to unlock her computer, and Steve…Steve had gone to hit her, and he stopped. He hesitated. She pondered on that memory for a moment, wondering why he hadn't delivered the blow. She ran faster, feeling anger course through her veins. She was tired of being used. Tired of not having control over her life. Tired of hurting people that didn't deserve it.

Her bitter reminiscing was interrupted when her ears picked up the opening of the elevator doors from down the hall. She knew by the heavy footsteps that it was a man, but they were too light-footed to belong to Dr. Banner's clumsy gait, and yet they were not quiet enough to match Clint's deathly silent prowl. She crossed her fingers, praying to whatever Gods were out there that her visitor was Tony. She wasn't sure that she would be able to speak with Steve again. She was too embarrassed.

She was rather disgruntled to see Steve walk through the door in sweatpants and a t-shirt, carrying a gym bag. Upon noticing her, he gasped slightly in surprise.

"Oh! I'm sorry…I can come back." Steve said, rubbing the back of his neck as he attempted not to look at her bare legs as she ran. He still hadn't grown accustomed to the modern apparel for women.

"Don't be ridiculous." Nora panted out as she continued running. "There's plenty of room for the both of us."

"Alright…if you're sure, ma'am." He said politely, heading to one of the punching bags by the sparring mat. She watched him as he wrapped one of his hands with a piece of tape. She finally decided to break the awkward silence, speaking up,

"You don't have to call me 'Ma'am'. Just Nora is fine." She called out to him from her side of the room. She heard a beeping coming from the treadmill, signaling that she had reached her ten mile distance goal. She hit stop, stepping off of the conveyer belt and breathing heavily.

"Sorry…Nora." He said. She rolled back her shoulders, straightening her stance.

_I just have to man up and get this over with. _

She walked over to him.

"It's alright. Listen, I wanted to apologize for talking your ear off last night. I know you probably didn't want to hear about my problems." She observed him as he stopped looking through his bag and looked her in the eye, a frown forming on his face.

"You don't have to apologize." He said. "If anything, I should be the one apologizing. I didn't mean to intrude on your personal space." A wild blush began forming on both of their cheeks as they both began to think of the way he had held her the night before.

"Oh…that. That was…fine." She muttered awkwardly. "It was nice actually. Very comforting. I'm just ashamed that you saw that side of me."

"You shouldn't be ashamed. I-um-well, I liked that side." He said gently, his face reddening even more.

Despite her embarrassment, she smiled. He smiled back, and she felt the need to change the subject before an awkward silence ensued.

"So…are you looking for something?" She asked, eyes traveling to his bag and then back to his face to indicate what she had meant.

'Oh!" He exclaimed, glad for the ease of tension. "Yes, I think I've lost my other length of tape, and Tony hasn't re-stocked down here yet."

At the discovery that he couldn't hit the bag like he had planned, Nora thought for an alternative. She was hoping to get some combative training in before she attempted to sleep for the night.

"Do you want to just spar instead? I've been waiting for someone to come down here so I could ask." Steve's gaze darkened.

"No. I can't do that."

"Why not?" she asked, slightly offended.

"I just can't. I could hurt you. A gentleman should never fight a woman." He crossed his arms stubbornly, looking down at her as if she should have already known this. Realization dawned on her.

"That's why you hesitated." She said, poking a finger into his chest as she looked up to him with a small smirk. "Last night, when I attacked, you didn't hit me. You waited." He looked slightly taken aback, and he felt a strange feeling in his stomach when she touched him.

"You remember that?" He asked, attempting to redirect the conversation to a topic he was more comfortable with.

"It's one of the few things I remember, yes. Don't try to distract me." She said bluntly, poking him again, slightly harder. She rolled her eyes as he rubbed the spot she had just poked, acting as if it were painful to the touch. "Steve," she started, "you're going to have to fight women. It's inevitable."

"But-" He started hopelessly, secretly knowing that she was right.

"No buts." She said. "Steve, I've spent my whole life training to be the enemy. If Mr. Price knew that you wouldn't hit a woman, he would use it against you in a heartbeat. It's a potential weakness. Spar with me. It'll help you if you ever have to do it for real."

"I can't just hit you!" He argued, "You don't understand. I'm not the average guy. I could kill you , Nora."

"But you won't." She said smugly, walking over and removing boxing gloves from the rack by the mat. She placed one on each hand. He groaned.

"You're a stubborn woman."

"Don't act so shocked." She joked. As he grudgingly came onto the mat after placing larger gloves on his own hands, she punched him in the arm. He didn't even flinch.

"You didn't feel that?" She asked, jaw dropped. He smiled smugly and shook his head. "Well, this could be harder than I thought."


	8. Chapter 7

Their fighting started hesitantly. Steve would lightly throw a punch, to which Nora would side-step and strike back. She laid hard punches to his sides, committing all of her strength to every blow. She felt a growing frustration at Steve's passive approach; she wanted to make him angry. She wanted him to fight her as an equal. She punched harder, channeling her frustration through her hands.

Steve was surprised to feel a dim pain with each of her strikes. They did little more than to discomfort him, but it had been a long while since the last time he had felt any type of pain in a fight. He usually tried to avoid sparring altogether; he found a strong disinterest in the idea of hurting any one of his teammates. (Yes, even Stark.) The enemies that he faced as Captain America were usually easy work-almost all regular humans since Loki's attack. So, to say that he was taken aback by the strength of her jabs would have been an understatement.

He began to dodge her blows, using his enhanced reaction time to his advantage. He swiftly ducked out of the way each time she attacked. She let out a small, feral growl at her inability to catch him. Steve made sure to remain defensive, skillfully blocking and dodging but never making an advance of his own.

Nora, however, was done playing nice. With a stormy look of determination in her eye that almost scared Steve, she threw a punch up towards his jaw. Just as she had expected him to, Steve ducked under her arm. She took advantage of his lowered stance, using his shoulders as a springboard. She flipped over him, now facing his back. Before he could turn to face her, she kicked his calf, just below the back of his knee. His leg buckled under her attack of the joint. She used his lack of balance to successfully pin him down to the mat.

For a moment, they stared at each other, Nora breathing heavily. Finally, Nora spoke.

"You're holding back, Steve."

He didn't speak, looking rather conflicted with himself. He didn't want to hurt Nora in any way but, at the same time, his pride was suffering for it. He was more than shocked that she had pinned him so easily, whether he was putting forth effort or not. She was talented. And, unlike himself, she wasn't holding back. He knew that she didn't understand why he was acting so passively, and he felt a growing frustration at her obliviousness to the fact that he could put her in the hospital with one hit. She stood, stretching her wrists and arms as he slowly rose to his feet. She was beginning to worry that she had angered him, until a slow, deliberate smirk formed on his face. Her eyes widened slightly. She was taken by surprise by his sudden confidence.

He raised his fists up in front of him in the basic defensive stance. Then he waited. She lifted her own fists, prepared to take him down again. She threw her first punch, expecting him to block it or dodge again. Steve had a different plan. He blocked her blow with his left hand; his wrist pushed her arm out to the side, effectively opening up a clear shot to her stomach. He sent his right fist forward, towards his target, and Nora squinched her eyes shut, preparing herself for the hit.

Steve lightened up at the last minute, gently pressing his boxing glove-clad hand to her stomach. Nora flinched, feeling the contact, but soon after released a breath she hadn't known that she had been holding.

"Gotcha." He said softly, slowly removing his fist from her stomach. She felt her breath hitch in her throat. She had, for a moment, actually thought that Steve was going to hit her. And, for that moment, she had been scared. She didn't know what it was like to be punched in the gut by a super soldier, but having come so close made her realize that she didn't ever want to know. Steve had known that all along; he just knew that she needed to realize it on her own. Her shoulders sank as she released a large breath. She knew she had been wrong in asking him to fight her.

"Sorry. You were right, I was wrong." She said, with a tiny smile.

"I know." He chucked softly as he removed his gloves. She laughed lightly along with him, taking her gloves off and placing them back on the rack next to his. For a small moment she marveled at the size difference. Were his hands really that massive? She fought the strange urge to peek from the corner of her eye.

"Alright, well I'm going to head back upstairs. I'll see you tomorrow?" She asked hopefully. He smiled, liking the idea that she wanted to see him again so soon.

"Sounds swell." She giggled at his word choice. She brought her hand to her forehead and straightened her posture, bidding him farewell with a playful salute.

"Goodnight, Captain." He laughed heartily.

"Goodnight, Nora."

LINEBREAK

Nora swiftly retraced her steps, making her way back up the elevator. She cringed as the doors opened with a loud "ding". It was around one in the morning; she had been in the gym for quite a while.

She tiptoed past the kitchen, about to head down the hall toward her room before she saw the TV on in the corner of her eye. She moved toward the living room, a soft smile forming on her lips at what she saw there. Natasha was fast asleep on the couch. Her legs were curled underneath her, her head leaning slightly onto Clint's shoulder. Her hand was wrapped loosely around his bicep, and her breathing was steady. Clint, who was also knocked out, was leaning into her slightly, his head gently tipped to the side to rest on hers.

She sighed sadly as she silently moved to the plasma screen, turning it off so as not to disturb them in their slumber. She began to wonder, as she moved toward her room, whether she would ever have what they had. She was baffled that Clint and Natasha were so perfect for each other in each and every way, and yet they didn't seem to know it. She had grown accustomed to a twinge of jealousy every time she saw them; they seemed to have a magnetic force between them, constantly bringing them closer. She wanted to be with someone like that. She wanted to find her other half. But, dare she say it, she was afraid.

Nora wasn't known to be afraid of many things. She had faced her worst nightmares all of her life, so she felt completely idiotic for fearing something like love. It was always just out of her reach; like an abstract memory, love was something that she knew the definition of, but not the true meaning. If she was being completely honest, she barely knew what it felt like. To be loved by someone. She was afraid that it was too late for her to even begin to know love. Out of all of the things that the facility had deprived her of, the lack of love and kindness upset her the most.

She huffed loudly, entering her room. Her arms were sagging limply by her sides, her eyelids drooped heavily over her bloodshot irises. She let a yawn escape her. She was beyond tired, but sleeping would require letting her guard down to the nightmares. No, she had more control when she was awake. She hesitantly moved the door, leaving a large crack that did nothing to shield her from the bright hallway lights.

Sluggishly, she kicked off her shoes and headed for her bathroom. Reaching into the tub, she turned on the shower using the sleek looking handle there. She left the water at its coldest setting before quickly disposing of all her clothes. Taking a deep breath, as if to prepare herself for the arctic water she was about to step under, she lunged under the shower head. A loud gasp escaped her lips. Goosebumps raised on her skin, and she felt her muscles sigh in relief at the icy water.

She stood in the shower for what seemed like hours, but in reality couldn't have been more than minutes. She contemplated her escape from the facility, once again delving into her mind for the reason as to why Mr. Price had sent her _there. _To Stark Tower . There were many, of course, logical reasons. Among them, the facts that Tony Stark was one of the richest men on Earth, that he posed a threat to the facility's overall success, that he was friends with some of the most powerful people on this planet…

That's it. Nora thought, her hands clenching at her realization. She knew that whatever reason Mr. Price had sent her, it had to do with the Avengers, and not just Tony himself. Price would have wanted nothing more than to disband the Avengers, the largest threat to the facility there could ever be, before they could catch his scent.

Okay, this makes the most sense. Nora thought to herself, But why did they send me after Pepper? She pondered this question quite hard, but she came up with about as much as she started with. Nothing. She resisted the urge to punch the shower wall. She had never been so frustrated in her life. She couldn't shake the feeling that Mr. Price foresaw more of her current situation than she was comfortable with, and she was desperate to be two steps ahead. As a spy and assassin, that was her job. To be ahead.

At that very moment, ironically, she had never felt more behind.

She turned off the water after thoroughly cleansing her hair and body, as if she could wipe away the years of enslavement that seemed to all be hitting her now. Lifting one foot after the other out of the tub, she quickly grabbed a towel from the nearby rack and wrapped it around herself greedily. She practically ran to her walk-in closet, searching for something warm to wear. She was bouncing from foot to foot, extremely uncomfortable with the air conditioner hitting her already freezing skin. She threw on a warm pair of white cotton pajama bottoms, along with a grey short-sleeve v-neck. She turned to leave her closet, but quickly thought to turn back around and grab the nearest jacket she could find-a darker grey Nike zip up hoodie-before turning off the light and heading towards her bed. She carefully sat upon the cloud-like mattress, wanting nothing more than to lay down and close her eyes. She pulled down the comforter down, slipping her legs under almost in slow motion as she attempted to settle in. She almost moaned at the comfort that the bed provided her. She gingerly laid her head down on her pillow, marveling at the way it seemed to support her aching neck perfectly.

She laid there for an hour, twisting and turning as if one particular position held the key to her much needed night of rest. As much as her joints ached and her eyes practically screamed to close, she couldn't manage to make herself rest. Every time her eyelids would slip closed, she would begin to panic. She would start to think that she was back in her cell at the facility, and then she would hastily open her eyes only to feel that sweet relief at seeing her open door to her safe haven. Her new home in the Tower. After one more restless turn, she had had enough. Groaning, she sat up. Reaching over to turn on the lights, she winced at the soreness in her limbs.

By this point, she was desperate. She needed sleep, but her body was betraying her. She needed to wear herself down. Down to the point where she would _have _to sleep.

She knew exactly where to go.

LINEBREAK

Steve woke at the crack of dawn. He found that his t-shirt was damp, his skin coated in a thin layer of sweat from his sleep induced panic. The nightmares hadn't let up.

Happy to be awake and out of the reach of those horrid dreams, Steve sat up and stretched his limbs, satisfied with the several pops he heard from his tired joints. After a quick shower, he donned a pair of jeans and a t shirt before heading down to the kitchen for a much needed cup of coffee. Passing the windows that he had admired the very first night that Nora had arrived, he took a moment to observe the sunrise. He could just barely see the top of the sun peeking out from the horizon, and most of the sky was still a dark blue save for a small strip of lavender where the day was beginning to break. He appreciated the beauty of it, committing the moment to memory.

Continuing on his journey to the kitchen, he was surprised to come across Nora. She was seated at the large glass table in the kitchen. Her elbows were rested on top of the glass, her head hung in her hands. For a second, Steve was sure that she was sleeping. He was disproven, however, when her eyes rose to meet his. He tried his best to keep from emitting a shocked gasp.

She had large bags underneath her eyes, her whole face taking on an unhealthy shallow quality. Her bangs were stuck to her forehead in places, Steve guessed from sweat, and her knuckles were sporting large red marks.

"Nora.." Steve began, taking an apprehensive step towards her. "How long has it been since you slept?"

"Oh, I went to bed last night. Couldn't sleep much, but I tried my best." She said, her voice sounding monotonous and groggy. He shook the strange feeling that she wasn't telling him the whole truth.

"I see." He said awkwardly, not sure how to proceed. If he was being completely honest, he wanted to tell her to stand up and head right back to bed. He wanted to tell her that she needed rest. He wanted to tell her that he cared. But, rather than saying any of these things, he decided on, "Coffee?"

"No, thanks." She said softly, her head drooping down into her hands again. He moved to the coffee pot on the counter, glad for the distraction as he began to brew a pot. Once the machine had begun to do its work, he turned to face her. He leaned back, resting against the counter as he observed her. He began to wonder how a person could look so exhausted and so beautiful at the same time. A blush began to form on his cheeks at his bold thoughts; surely Nora knew that she was beautiful, but Steve felt embarrassment at the way he seemed to always fall victim to her appearance. He had found her distracting on multiple occasions.

Her eyes rose once again, narrowing the way that they usually did when she could hear something. Steve assumed that someone else was coming down for breakfast. Sure enough, only a minute or so later, Clint appeared from the living room, running a hand through his ruffled hair.

"Morning." He said sleepily, grabbing a bowl from a nearby cabinet and proceeding to fill it with cereal and milk. After sticking a spoon into the bowl, he plopped down tiredly at the table, across from Nora. It was then that he finally seemed to notice her condition. "You look awful." He said bluntly, looking her dead in the eye. Steve began to reprimand him, about to tell him that that was no way to speak to a lady, but Nora simply returned his rude comment with a worn out smile.

"I bet I do." She said, removing her elbows from the table painfully slowly. "I should probably go shower." She stood, and Steve quickly noticed a limp in her right leg. He didn't say anything, but merely watched her as she walked back towards the hallway, favoring her left leg as she did so.

"What's up with the limp?" Clint asked once she was out of sight, sure to keep his voice at a whisper so as to avoid detection from her enhanced hearing. "And the marks on her knuckles…they were fresh." Steve recognized the business-glint in Clint's eye. His eyes narrowed at the assassin's implications.

"Are you saying…?" Steve asked slowly, keeping his volume low.

"I think she left the Tower last night." He said, matter-of-factly, before shoveling an ungodly amount of cereal in his mouth.

"No." Steve said firmly. Nora would have told them if she had left. "We were in the gym until about one o' clock. She said that she went to bed right after, and I believe her." Clint raised his hands in surrender at the ring of authority in Steve's voice.

"I'm just saying, she could've. And I don't trust her. Not yet."

Steve rolled his eyes, annoyed at Clint's distrust of Nora, before turning to pour his cup of coffee from the pot into his mug. He couldn't, however, shake the feeling that perhaps Clint was right.


	9. Chapter 8

Clint strode into the lab, a threatening look in his eye as he came up to Tony.

"Whoa, who ruffled your feathers?" Tony joked. "Is wittle hawkie sad?" He added, forming a mocking pout and bringing his clasped hands up under his chin. Clint's fists tightened at his sides as he resisted the urge to strangle the billionaire. He was not in a gaming mood.

"She left last night. I'm sure of it."

"Who did what?" Dr. Banner cut in, looking up from his microscope.

"Nora." He said, addressing Bruce with a predatory grimace ghosting his lips. He didn't like how close she was coming to the team, and so quickly. This was his family, and he didn't tread lightly with suspicious intruders. "I think she left the building last night. I don't trust her, Stark." He finished, turning back to Tony. He rolled his eyes, minimizing his computer screen with the movement of his finger, effectively staring at Clint full on.

"Listen, Bird-Man, I understand that you miss being the designated _mysterious _member in the Tower, but I think that there's enough room in the shadows for you and her to lurk peacefully." Clint ignored the flash of annoyance that most sane people often felt when speaking to Tony. He pressed the issue.

"I just saw her this morning. She was up before everyone else. She has huge bags under her eyes, fatigue symptoms. Raw knuckles. Slight limp to her right leg." He listed what he had observed earlier in the morning, ticking each note off on his fingers after he had mentioned it. He often had similar injuries after a particularly tough mission. He would recognize them anywhere. The careless smirk fell from Tony's lips, his eyelids narrowing slightly. He liked Nora, but even he couldn't ignore these types of signs.

Tony stark was an impulsive man. He valued his instincts, and he almost always acted on them. His gut had told him that Nora was a good person, and what Clint was suggesting would almost ensure that she wasn't.

"Well, there's only one way to find out." Tony said, almost coldly. He pulled up the screen once again with a wave of his hand. He wanted to get to the bottom of this. "JARVIS, pull up the security feed on Nora from last night."

"Right away, sir." JARVIS's cool tone replied. The video almost instantly appeared on the screen, which Tony expanded flawlessly. Bruce moved away from his equipment, putting on his glasses before joining them so that he may have a clear view.

"Play the feed, JARVIS."

It began around 8:00pm, after they had eaten. They observed Nora as she left her room. The camera trailed her movements, down the hallway and into the elevator, before the three men watched her enter the training gym. She stopped at the doorway, seeming to be taking it all in, before she got onto a treadmill and began to run.

"Fast forward through this." Clint said impatiently. Tony complied, beginning to gape at the length of her workout. The video rolled through just over three hours of Nora running, never letting up on her speed. Even Clint, who's life depended on his physical fitness, was impressed with her endurance. From experience, all three knew that she was exercising her frustration away, but the devastated look on her face made them feel guilty for intruding.

The video feed continued to speed forward, displaying her merciless running. It was soon after several minutes of pointless security feed had gone by that something caught their eye. Another person had entered the gym.

"Wait, is that-?" Bruce asked as Tony backtracked.

"Steve." Clint confirmed. As they watched Nora walk over to him, sparking an almost intimate conversation, they couldn't help but be surprised. Tony had been informed by Pepper that Nora was having a hard time connecting with the women, and she almost never spoke with any of them. How was it that she and Steve seemed to have such an easygoing air about them? Nora poked a finger into Steve's chest, obviously chastising him for something. Perhaps it was their male chromosomes, but the three inexplicably managed to miss the distinct chemistry between the two. "What are they saying?" Clint questioned, leaning towards the screen as if it would help him hear.

"I don't know. No audio, remember? I was having the cameras updated."

Clint didn't like this. Not at all. He put himself in an enemy's shoes, as he so often did for his line of work. If he were an undoubtedly attractive woman, playing the victim to gain the Avengers' trust, he would have chosen to bond with Steve as well. Due to his years of training, he knew that to gain someone's trust, you had to let your walls down. In a group, however, this could be tricky. You don't want to open yourself up to too much speculation, but you need someone on your side to spark trust from the others. If she had really done her homework, Steve was the obvious choice. He was insanely moral, so he would automatically give her a larger chance than more skeptical members of the group. He had a sensitive personality, one that wouldn't take much to be fooled into believing a heart wrenching tale. But, more than anything, the Captain was lonely. He lost everyone he knew and cared about more than seventy years ago, and he was only just beginning to become adjusted to this new world. In comes a beautiful woman, seeming to be able to understand and take a liking to him, and _boom._ Instant trust. And if Clint knew anything, he knew that trust was dangerous. More dangerous than knives, guns, or arrows. If you trust someone, and that trust is betrayed…well, the outcome can be more painful than an injury inflicted by any weapon. No, he didn't like this at all.

There was a collective gasp released when they saw Steve head over to the sparring mat with Nora, grudgingly picking up a pair of boxing gloves in his size.

"Are they…did she get him to spar?!" Bruce asked in shock. It was a widely known fact among the Avengers that Steve never, _never _sparred. Especially never with a woman. They observed, mouths agape in fascination as Nora circled Steve, who was so obviously taking it easy on her. Clint couldn't keep from cringing in sympathy for Steve as the match advanced. He recognized many of the moves that Nora was using from his own repertoire, and he knew that they were all meant to harm. And he could tell from Steve's occasional flinches and winces that he was feeling them. Super-soldier or no, she wasn't holding back.

She must've finally grown tired of Steve's lack of effort. Tony released a low, impressed whistle as she, in one foul swoop, flipped over Steve entirely and pinned him to the mat from behind. They could do nothing but watch in astonishment. None of them had ever seen the Captain take a hit like that. Clint knew that, if the roles were reversed, he would have felt an unavoidable anger at the loss of dignity. He would have put manners aside and taken her down, woman or no. He marveled at Steve's self control.

As if on ironic cue, the Captain stood again, a new confidence about him. They watched him raise his fists, as if egging her on.

"Oh, boy." Bruce said worriedly. Nora had no idea what she was getting into. She didn't hesitate to throw another lethal punch, but the shock on her face could be seen from miles away as Steve almost aggressively deflected it to the left. There was a collective intake of breath among them as he sent his fist for her stomach. Just as they were beginning to not believe their eyes, he lightened the blow, gently placing his fist to her abdomen. Tony let out a relieved sigh that he hadn't known he was holding. He quickly covered up with a signature retort,

"Leave it to Grandpa to mind his manners." But no one laughed. They were all too shaken.

They fast forwarded through the next forty five minutes of the feed, which showed Nora disappearing into her room. Through the crack in her door they could see her tossing and turning in bed. Just as Tony was about to reprimand Clint for wasting their time with his theory, Nora resurfaced. Hawkeye perked up immediately, a dangerous glint in his eye. If he was right…if she was a threat his safe haven...his family….well, there was nothing that he wouldn't do to get his revenge. She silently prowled through the hallway, re-entering the elevator.

"Told you." Clint said stonily. He couldn't repress, however, the small feeling of disappointment deep in his stomach. A part of him may have wished for the girl to be an ally. "Now, where is she going?" He muttered, almost to himself, as he observed her form on the screen. He cracked his knuckles, ready to release his fury, but stopped abruptly as the video feed showed her returning to the gym.

"Did she forget something? She's already done more than enough training for a day." Bruce pondered in confusion. They watched, completely frozen in shock, as she once again mounted the treadmill, working up to an unbearable speed and incline. The feed showed more than five hours, up until six that morning, of ruthless training. She ran for miles, beat the living hell out of a punching bag, and even took out a few rounds on the shooting range. From about twelve at night to the small hours of the morning, Nora tortured her body. Wordlessly, Tony stopped the video as it played her encounter with Steve and Clint earlier in the kitchen only an hour ago. For a few moments, there was silence. Then Bruce, whom had felt discomfort at Nora's actions due to his extensive history in medical studies, spoke.

"What she's doing isn't healthy."

"I couldn't agree more." Tony said, his voice sounding like the coldest of steel. He had grown particularly protective of Nora, and he couldn't say that he supported her behavior.

"We have to stop her," Bruce continued, "if she continues this pattern, it'll only be a few nights more until the fatigue symptoms will have her hospitalized."

"We should-" Tony began before Clint's deadly baritone interrupted.

"I think that we shouldn't bother her." Two jaws dropped.

"Are you insane? She could kill herself." Tony cut in. "I mean, I know you hate her, but-"

"This isn't about me disliking her." Clint stopped him. "Did you ever think that maybe I know where she's coming from? She's purposely wearing herself down. When you live our type of life, you take 'exercising your demons' to a whole new level. Leave her be. I guarantee that in a few days, she'll sleep it off and be good as new."

While he was immediately met with looks of skepticism, Tony and Dr. Banner couldn't not deny the sense in his logic. After a short moment of deliberation, Tony spoke.

"Fine." He growled.

"Tony, as a doctor with a degree in multiple medical sciences, I can't allow her to just-"

"Two more days. If she doesn't sleep by then, we take matters into our own hands." He finished. He minimized his screen for the last time, the lights turning off behind them automatically as they left the lab.

"So…I'm guessing that telling Steve would be a bad idea." Clint suggested.

"Roger that." Tony said, smirking at his play on words.

"Well, isn't this just going to be a fun time."


	10. Chapter 9

NINE

If anyone knew Clint, it was Natasha. The red-headed spy had stuck with him though thick and thin for years. She was, perhaps, the only other person on the Earth besides Clint himself that knew exactly how his mind worked. She knew when he was angry by the tightening of his clenched fists and the slight darkening in his grey eyes. She knew what made him tick. She knew his greatest fears. She knew that he secretly liked to cook. She knew that when he cracked his knuckles, it was a signal that you'd have three seconds to run before all hell broke loose. It was, in fact, Natasha's job to notice things that other people didn't. It just happened to be particularly intriguing with Clint.

More than anything, though, she knew that Clint didn't trust easily.

One doesn't just decide one day, "Hey, I'm going to kill people for a living". No, she knew that it took a specific personality type, and history, to be an assassin. None of them had families. If someone had an inch o wisdom, they would never enter the business with close ties. It wasn't a secret that your loved ones could be used against you. Because of this, almost all spies were orphans. This usually causes trust issues, along with a need to cope with violence, a secretive nature, the whole package. Clint's type, however, usually come out nastier than most.

Clint, similarly to their new houseguest, had been manipulated. He had had trust ripped right out from under him. He had ended up in deep with the wrong people after an under examined mission, and he and his SHIELD partner had been ambushed. Just as the enemy was closing in, his partner bailed.

36 hours of brutal torture before a SHIELD rescue tea arrives will do a number on your mind.

The average assassin would have gone rogue. They would have sought out vengeance, leaving destruction in their path. But she also knew that Clint was strong. Stronger than almost anyone else she knew. He went through mental and physical rehabilitation faster than anyone SHIELD had ever seen, and returned back to field work. Always alone…until her, that is. Natasha hadn't been around to see the metamorphosis, but her colleagues had mentioned how much he had changed. He used to be carefree…devilishly handsome with a smile that "made everyone feel hopeful again". . She knew that it had been so long since he had let anyone in. Why he chose her, she didn't know. But she was proud. Proud that, for whatever reason, she was someone that he could trust

Some days, Natasha stares. She tries to see the Clint that she never knew, but the only person she finds is her Hawkeye. Her best friend. The only person she let into her well guarded heart. Oh, and the "devilishly handsome" part. She could see that just fine.

As previously stated…if anyone knew Clint, it was Natasha.

So she _knew _that Nora was going to be a problem for him. She _knew_ that he would be suspicious of her, regardless of the obvious truth in her chilling tale only one night before.

Natasha was a woman that thought that trust needed to be earned. She too, at first, had been skeptical to let Nora into their home. As a trained killer, she was up for hours the night before with the looming tension that comes along with a possible threat under their own roof. After pointless hours of tossing and turning, she decided to head out to the balcony. Her safe haven. Her place that she went to at night to go and think. Imagine her surprise when she saw Nora seated, eerily, exactly where Natasha always placed herself when in a deep contemplation. Rather than feeling an uproar of anger at the intrusion of her safe place, she _saw_ Nora for the first time.

Seeing her seated out on that ledge, with shoulders hunched and head hung low, Natasha could feel the girl's pain radiating in waves. She respected that Nora, similar to Natasha herself, showed no weakness until she knew that she had no audience. She saw that, in that moment, Nora had been nothing but honest. And her trust in her had been earned, just like that.

Natasha knew that Clint, on the other hand, thought that trust is a thing to be deserved. Clint trusts a person when _he _sees fit. Because that's the only way that Clint could avoid getting hurt. More than anything, she admired her partner's resolve and determination. But she thought that, occasionally, he lacked compassion. She knew that the faster he realized that they had so much in common, the faster he would attempt to actually see Nora for who she really was.

But until then, unfortunately, the Avengers were stuck with his paranoia.

LINEBREAK

Nora was exhausted. She could feel it deep in her muscles and bones. With every step she took, her body screamed in agony for rest. But she couldn't manage to even think about getting any.

After her entirely awkward run-in with Steve and Agent Barton in the kitchen that morning, Nora had known almost immediately that she would have to stay out of sight until she was back on her feet. It only took one look in her mirror for her to see that Clint had been right; she looked like absolute crap. This was why, after a quick shower and change into more comfortable clothes, Nora had decided to hole up in her room until that night, when she could go to the gym again without being seen.

She hated feeling so weak. She hated that she couldn't sleep and socialize and eat like a normal person. She hated that she couldn't handle the unbearable pain that she felt every time she closed her eyes. And, most of all, she hated that she knew how disappointed Steve would be if he saw her now. With deep bags under her eyes and the swelling of her body after it's rigorous torture, she knew that she had gone too far. But she wasn't nearly tired enough. She wouldn't sleep until it was her only option; until the notion of getting a few hours of sleep overcame the fear of her inevitable nightmares.

Her fingers fidgeted in her lap. For the past three hours or so, Nora had been seated on her bed, attempting to watch a series on her flat screen. There had been a marathon on, but after her fifth episode she was still entirely clueless as to what exactly was going on. As the show went to yet another commercial break (an occurrence that happened quite often, she quickly discovered) she painfully stretched out her arms above her head in an attempt to loosen her muscles. She groaned at the immense pain in her shoulders and back. Gingerly lowering her harms, she set her hands back in her lap. As she felt her eyes begin to slip closed, her body went into overdrive. The TV became exceedingly loud; the music and voices in the current commercial were making her ears ring. She had suddenly become extremely uncomfortable. She needed to move.

Shoving her pain aside, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood. She moved to the open space in her living room area, before dropping to the floor. She brought her knees up to a point and clasped her hands behind her head. As if someone had lit a fire underneath her, she began to do crunches. She felt hot tears roll down her cheeks at her body's rejection of any exercise, but she immediately clenched her jaw and wished them away. She needed this. She needed her physical pain to outweigh the pain settling in her chest. She clenched her eyes shut, increasing her speed. Before she knew it, she was counting to 200...then 250. Her legs were quivering under the pressure. It was around crunch number 317 that she heard a gentle tapping on her door, which had remained ajar for the duration of her stay at the Tower. She abruptly stopped, sitting up to see who was looming in the doorway.

Steve was staring at her, concern ringing deep and true in his blue eyes.

She couldn't bear the way that he gazed at her. It made her feel as if she had committed a crime. Averting her gaze to a vase sitting across the room, she huffed a sigh. She heard him step inside. She could make out the crinkle of the fabric of his pants as he sat down next to her. She turned her head away, hoping to avoid the display of her sunken eyes. For a while, it was silent. She could feel his eyes boring into her, and began to feel irritable. His disappointment in her was radiating off of his frame in waves, and it made her angry. He had _no idea_ what she was going through.

Finally, with a heavy sigh, he spoke. "Nora, I know what you're doing."

It only took the sound of her name and those five little words. She felt something inside of her snap.

"You don't know anything about me." She growled, standing up and heading into her small kitchenette that was separated from her living room only by a waist-high countertop. She violently pulled open one of the cupboards and retrieved a glass. Yanking the faucet handle, she filled it with lukewarm water. She hadn't even bothered to change the temperature. She glowered when Steve, very unwisely on his part, followed her.

"I may not know as much about you as I would like to, Ma'am. But I do know a few things about myself. I've been where you are." He said calmly, sitting on one of the stools by her countertop. She gulped down half the glass, consistently avoiding his eyes.

"Really." She scoffed. "Where exactly is it that I am, _sir_?" She asked coldly.

"I can only guess," he began, completely unaffected by her irritated state, "that you can't sleep." She opened her mouth to object, but he continued. "You know that you'll have nightmares, so you avoid closing your eyes. But you also know that you'll have to rest eventually. So you exercise. It's the only way that you know how to wear yourself down to the point that the pain that you'll endure in your dreams couldn't possibly be any worse than the pain that your body feels when you're awake." Her hand tightened around the glass. She hated that he was right. She hated the way that he was so calm about this; that he was so unaffected by her anger. However, at the same time, she hated that she could see a slight fear in his eye. A fear of her. And a fear of what she was saying to him. Most of all, she hated that she was behaving this way. She knew that he didn't deserve her attitude. She knew that he was only trying to help. But she was so tired. And so angry…for no good reason at all.

"Thank you, so much, for that astounding analysis." She said sarcastically, her hand feeling a slight crack form in the glass as she clutched it. She realized that he must have sensed it too, by the way that he lowered his eyes to her hand.

"Nora," he said softly, taking a step towards her with his hands raised. A peace gesture. The way he approached as if she were a danger to him her infuriated her to no end. Her grip on the glass tightened even moreso. "I want to help you. I don't like seeing you like this. You don't look like yourself."

"What do you mean, I don't 'look like myself'?" She seethed, taking a step closer to him. "You've only known me for two days!" She felt her rage growing. Deep inside, she wanted it to stop. She didn't want to yell at him this way. But she felt so out of control. "Maybe this is the real me."

"No, it's not." He said softly. "You just need to-"

"Don't tell me what I _need _to do!" she yelled. And then time seemed to slow.

She heard the glass shatter before she felt it. What was left of its contents sprayed all over her shirt before falling to the floor. She saw shards of glass hit Steve in the chest harmlessly before falling to their feet.

And then she felt the pain.

Her whole hand was on fire. She looked away from him, her glare now widened in shock, to look at her hand that had clutched the glass so tightly only moments before. Embedded deep into her skin was a shard of glass the size of a playing card. Blood was seeping from the wound and onto her shirt, which was flush against her hand as she cradled it to her chest. She let out a small cry of pain.

Wordlessly, Steve reached for her. He grabbed her uninjured hand and gently ushered her to the sink, where he turned the tap on to a light but steady flow of cool water. She winced as he tentatively reached for the hand cradled to her chest. As he removed it, he could see that her shirt was now soaked in blood. Carefully, he placed the hand under the stream of water. She cried out at the immediate sting before grinding her teeth.

"I'm going to pull it out, okay?" He whispered to her strongly, engulfing her small hand in his. She watched as the blood and water mixed together in the sink before going down the drain and disappearing all together. "It's going to hurt, Doll, but you're tough. I know you are." He switched her hand over to one of his, placing the back of her hand in his palm. She felt the glass shift slightly as he placed the fingers of his right hand around it, as if asking for permission to remove it from her skin. Taking a shaky breath, she nodded and clenched her eyes shut. In one swift movement, he removed the glass completely from her palm. She let out a whimper through her teeth. Now that the glass was completely removed, leaving an open wound, she attempted to pull her hand out from under the water that was causing such an immensely painful sting. His grip tightened, holding it there. "It has to be cleaned out, Nora. Just hold on." After a few moments of unbearable pain, the stinging began to subside. Her shoulders lowered in relief. "Can you keep it there for a minute?" he asked, tightening his grip on her hand gently in reassurance. She nodded stiffly, cradling it under the water as he moved away from her, digging through her cupboards on the other side of the kitchen. After a few moments, he dug out the first aid kit that Pepper had insisted she and Tony equip all the rooms in the Tower with. Nora would have to thank her later. Steve turned off the faucet before taking her hand back in his. He looked into the now opened first aid kit before pulling out gauze and tape. Slowly and meticulously, he wrapped the gauze around her still bleeding palm. Applying pressure to the end with his thumb, he ripped off a piece of tape with his teeth and secured the gauze with it, effectively encasing her wound in the dressing. She felt the warmth leave her hand as he released it, but just as quickly as he dropped the one he picked up her other. Her eyebrows crinkled in confusion.

"We're going to go see Bruce." Nora opened her mouth to argue, "No buts, Ma'am." She rolled her eyes at the name. "You're probably going to need stitches, and I wont be the reason that it doesn't heal properly." He led her through the door, still holding her hand. She felt a blush rise to her cheeks. She was embarrassed by this whole scenario. Her outburst, her injury, her hand in his. It was all just so…intimate. Even her anger. And it made her feel uncomfortable. She had, in fact, only known this man for 48 hours. And what on earth was that distracting fluttering in her stomach?

"…Steve?" She said timidly as they came to the end of the hallway.

"Yes?" He asked, looking back at her briefly before clicking the 'down' button to call the elevator.

"Thank you," she said softly, biting her lip. He looked at her, his lips upturning at the corners with a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "And…I'm sorry. For what I said." She felt her chest lighten with relief when he looked at her again, his eyes alight with forgiveness. His lips quirked up once more, and she knew somehow that, in good time, everything would be alright.


	11. Chapter 10

TEN

"Oh, my God." Bruce exclaimed worriedly as Nora and Steve entered the lab in search of him. "What happened to her?" He said to Steve pointedly. Nora couldn't help but notice that the tone in his voice suggested that he was expecting her.

"I.." Nora started, embarrassed. "I-"

"It was my fault." Steve cut her off. She looked up at him questioningly, clutching her hand tighter to her chest. "I dropped a glass on her counter and she cut her hand on one of the shards."

"Oh." Bruce said, seeming surprised at the simplicity of the source of her injury. As the sense of lessening urgency, the doctor seemed to finally notice their intertwined hands. Nora followed his gaze and immediately blushed, gently pulling her hand out of Steve's. She glanced at his face and could've sworn she saw his lips downturn in a frown before she looked away.

Sensing the awkward tension he had created, Bruce cleared his throat uncomfortably and took a step closer. "So, what do we have here?" He asked her, in full doctor-mode now, as he reached for her hand that so tightly clung to her chest. As his gentle grip wrapped around her wrist and pulled, she grudgingly let the doctor take her hand and begin to unwrap the already blood soaked gauze. Once he finally revealed the cut, which had begun to swell around the edges, he let out a whistle.

"You did quite a number on it, didn't you?" He said, almost to himself, as he traced the straight edges of the wound. She winced slightly, nodding. She could feel Steve looking at her with concern, and it only made her face redden more. More than anything, she wanted to forget that the past hour had even happened. She hated the way that she had attacked Steve, and it made her realize just how bad she had gotten. Looking back at their argument, she realized that he was only attempting to help her. She knew that she had been out of line, saying that he didn't understand what she was going through. She knew that he did. Most likely, he understood better than anyone else ever could. But she pushed him away. And she had no idea why.

"You're going to need stitches. Nothing serious. Six of them, tops. I'm just going to numb it a little and then we can get started."

"Don't." She said, gritting her teeth.

"Excuse me?" He asked her, confused. Was she suggesting to leave the wound open?

"Don't bother numbing it. I just want it over with."

"Don't be ridiculous." Steve scoffed. She ignored him, steadily meeting the doctor's gaze.

"Don't bother numbing it." She repeated. She hated needles; particularly injections. She would much rather close her eyes and have him sew it shut right then and there. Bruce looked at her for a few moments, and she could feel his indecision radiating in waves.

"Fine. But I cant say that I condone it." He said stonily, turning to get his supplies.

"Bruce, you cant be serious!" Steve groaned.

"The procedure is completely safe, numbing or no. If she insists on a little extra pain, I'm not going to stop her." Bruce answered softly, looking at Nora. She couldn't help but think that Dr. Banner understood more than anyone ever gave him credit for. While Tony Stark may have been a hot-shot, "genius" billionaire, it was clear that Bruce had wisdom that far surpassed that of his closest friend in the Tower. Was it possible that he understood why Nora felt the need to prove herself? Why she felt, inexplicably, that the use of a simple numbing agent made her weak? She found herself hoping that he did.

_Steve understands too. _She thought to herself. _You know he does. _

She grimaced at her train of thought. She knew that Steve, given his situation, would understand her more than anyone else ever could. As much as she hated to admit it, she was scared. She didn't want him to judge her. There was a darkness, a darkness that her childhood in the facility nourished, inside of her that was inching its way out with each hour of sleep she lost, and she could do absolutely nothing to control it. Steve seemed so…innocent and kind to her. Where he was light, she was the dark. She feared that if she leaned on him for support, the weight would topple them both over. And she will have dragged him down to this hell she was in.

She was broken out of her reverie when Bruce returned to her, ready to close her wound.

"Take a seat, Nora." He said, all business. She was about to comply, but stopped short. Her hand was twitching to drag Steve with her. She didn't need anyone, and she knew that.

_Anyone but Steve._

Before she could muddle over that completely embarrassing thought, she went with her gut. Grabbing his hand, and _avoiding_ his eyes, she dragged him to the spot next to her chair. Bruce raised an eyebrow, but she was thankful when she saw that he opted not to say anything. Coughing awkwardly, he situated himself across from her, on the other side of his desk, and got his needle ready.

"I'll make it as quick as possible." He said reassuringly. "You're absolutely sure you don't want the numbing?"

"I'm sure. Just do it." She said determinedly, clenching her jaws together in preparation for the pain she was about to endure. When she saw the needle move toward her skin, she clenched her eyes shut. And then she waited.

All at once, the dim and throbbing pain that was already present in her palm grew tenfold. She felt her eyes begin to water, but she refused to let the tears fall. While Bruce's steady hands were reassuring, the pain of her skin being tugged together was almost unbearable. When she was on a mission, and she was injured, there was the adrenaline to push her through the pain. Now, there was only her, Steve, Bruce, and a needle in her hand. Her tolerance for pain was high, but with nothing to distract her, and her lack of sleep for the past two days, she was wallowing in it. Bruce began his third stitch, and she felt a cry of pain building up in her chest. Just as she was about to open her mouth for the sound to emerge, she felt a warmth on her left hand. Her eyes snapped open, and she looked over to see Steve's calloused hand wrapped around hers. She looked up to his face. He had developed a deep blush at his bold move, but she realized that he knew what she was going through. He was offering her a distraction.

Or, at least, that's what she thought his intentions were.

She squeezed his hand harder with each tug of the needle, and she was surprised to see the way that Steve stared at her unflinchingly and without shame. No matter how much pressure she was forced to apply to his hand, his gaze never faltered. He was solid. Like a rock. Not her rock, but a rock. It was then that she realized that her anger at Steve less than an hour before couldn't have been more inappropriate. She was so tired of the way that, exhausted or not, she couldn't let people in. She knew that being raised in the facility didn't allow her to trust anyone, but she was starting to realize that trust was something she wanted. She had never, in her life, had a friend. Or even someone to tell her problems to, whether they cared or not. The fact that not hours into her stay at the Tower, she was able to do so with Steve, proved that he was different. It proved that he could be the friend that she had never had; the friend that she desperately needed.

Just as Bruce was tying off the last stitch, he spoke.

"Looks like we're all done here." He said, awkwardly, as Nora moved her gaze from Steve to the doctor. "You should probably change out of that shirt. You look like you came out of a horror movie." He laughed, and she let out a breathy chuckle along with him. She didn't want to think about the way that he was eerily right; in a lot of ways, it felt like she _did_ come out of a horror movie. She emerged from the dark depths of the facility, covered in blood just as she was now. Not blood that anyone could see. The blood of the countless people she had been forced to kill. It was on her hands, soaked into her skin.

"Yeah," She said. "I should probably go wash off."

LINEBREAK

Steve and Bruce watched her back as she fled the room, headed towards hers for a shower. An awkward silence ensued for but a few moments before Bruce turned to Steve, amusement alight in his eyes behind his dorky frames. Steve glanced at him, confused, before heading to the lab sink to wash of his bloody hands. Bruce followed, a light laugh rumbling deep in his chest.

"You like her." He said softly, handing him a towel as he turned the faucet off.

"She's a nice person." Steve said skeptically, his eyes narrowed.

"'Nice' wasn't the word that came to mind. More like 'mysterious' or 'dangerously compelling'."

"She's a nice person." Steve repeated, more seriously. Bruce raised his hands in surrender. He and Steve had developed an easygoing nature, but the doctor felt that he had struck a cord.

"It's okay to like her, you know." Bruce said kindly. "Certain people in this Tower would give you crap about it, but I get it." Steve stared at him as if he were growing a second head.

"You don't think that I'm making a mistake? That she's a complete stranger to us, and that it isn't wise for me to trust her?" He argued. "I wont jeopardize my team. Period."

"You know, I used to feel like the Other Guy just ran my life." Steve's eyebrows scrunched in confusion at the change in subject. "I constantly felt like I was this mutation, and not Bruce Banner. And it effected my decisions. Made me lonely." Steve opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off. "Until I met Tony. And if you tell him this, I _will_ go green on you because I know that I would never hear the end of it. But I needed, more than anything, a friend. Someone who looked past my…condition….from the very beginning, and wasn't scared of it. For Christ's sake, Tony was poking me with sharp objects for days with the intent of letting the Other Guy _out_. It's amazing how he can be a genius and idiotic all at once." Bruce finished, letting out a chuckle. Steve laughed along as well; the Captain never missed out on a joke about Tony Stark. Never.

"With you, Steve, I feel like you tend to have the same problem." Steve's eyes narrowed, taking in the good doctor. He didn't enjoy having his personal life discussed. As much as he would hate to admit it, it made him uncomfortable. "Not with a mutation, obviously, but with your leadership. You try so hard to be strong for the team, and you never let anyone see you weak. Being the best leader you can be is always forefront on your mind. And I respect that, believe me. But I know that you have a troubled past. You don't need to tell me, because I can see it in your eyes. The pain in your eyes every day, I hadn't ever seen anything like it. Until her." Steve stood, mulling over what his friend was saying. "You two understand each other. I know that you do. And I think that a friendship with her could only benefit this team, despite what other people may think. She makes you stronger, and a better leader equals a better team. Chain reaction, Captain."

Steve was astounded by the doctor's wisdom every day, but even more-so in this exact moment. He felt as if Dr. Banner knew him better than he did himself. With the advice so recently given to him, he found himself thinking of Clint and Natasha. Separately, they were some of the strongest and most determined people he knew. Together, they were the deadliest team he had ever seen. Could it be that they had balanced each other out, just as they balanced the Avengers as a team? Could it be that they understood each other just like he felt he could understand Nora? He tried to picture the Avengers without one or the other, and he couldn't. It was obvious that the two had a connection that ran deeper than the ocean, and it made them better people. More stable. Steve could see that stability reflected in his team every day.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bruce head over to his computer and begin typing maniacally. Steve turned to leave, but stopped when he heard Bruce start to say something again.

"I used to think that having a friend would only cause problems, what with the Other Guy always threatening to appear. But I've found that letting someone in, it can only make you stronger. Just remember that, Captain." Steve nodded, heading out again. He stopped at the door.

"Bruce?" He asked, the doctor acknowledging him with a nod of his head. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it." He said, never looking up from his computer screen. Steve was thankful that he didn't make this situation any more awkward with sincere eye contact.

"Oh, and Tony never hears about any of this, right?"

"I'm deleting the video footage as we speak."

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On his way back up to his room, Steve couldn't help but to think over what had happened in the last hour and a half. He began to think about the venomous way that Nora had argued with him earlier, but he stopped himself almost as quickly as he had begun. He knew exactly why she had lashed out at him, and he knew that he couldn't judge her for it. He could see pain eating away at her just as it had eaten away at him when he had first woken up from his seventy year slumber. He had to find his way out of the darkness on his own, and he wanted to ensure that Nora didn't have to do the same.

_That's assuming that she'll even speak to me, _he thought sadly as he rounded the corner into the hallway. As if answering his doubts, he was surprised to see Nora seated on the floor outside her suite.

Her long hair was in damp, dark waves down to her back. She had pushed it over the shoulder farthest from him, putting scar on full display. He couldn't help but think that her beauty had magnified in that moment. Her eyes were shut peacefully, her head leaned against the wall and her knees brought up to her chest. She was cradling her newly bandaged hand to her chest, her thumb absentmindedly running over the gauze on the back of her hand. For the first time since she had moved in, she looked just slightly more at ease. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, coughing lightly to let her know that he had neared. Her eyes shot open, and he almost immediately regret it. Her shoulders sagged in defeat and exhaustion once more, and he hated himself at that moment for taking the peace, however brief, away from her. She lifted herself from the floor, pushing herself off of the wall to face him. He noticed the way she winced when she moved, her limbs dragging as if they were dead.

"I was waiting for you. I wanted to talk about..well, earlier." She said softly. He couldn't get over how exhausted she looked. He wanted so badly to help her, but he couldn't force her to sleep. He couldn't force her to ease her pain. Only she could do those things.

"Do you want to discuss this over coffee? You look like you could use some caffeine, Ma'am." He suggested, using his thumb over his shoulder to point towards the kitchen.

"Yeah, that sounds nice." She said, walking with him side by side towards the other end of the hallway. "And, by the way, I thought I told you to cut it out with this 'Ma'am' business."

"Sorry," He said shyly, a small smirk forming on his lips. "Ma'am."

"Ugh!" Nora groaned, hitting him in his arm. He laughed at the painless pressure on his bicep. "I mean it!"

"Alright!" He chuckled, making a bee line straight for the coffee pot when they made it to the kitchen. Had Nora had more sleep in her system, she would have laughed at the super-soldier's apparent addiction to coffee. In her exhaustion, however, she could only muster a small smile and an exhalation of breath from her nose. She plopped herself in a stool by the island counter, running a hand over her face tiredly. She closed her eyes and opened her ears, taking in the sounds around her in Stark Tower. She could hear steady breathing within Tony and Pepper's room, but her ears almost immediately focused in on the much more audible snore coming from Clint's room. Natasha's suite was deathly silent, save for the occasional, practically inaudible rustles of fabric.

_It figures that she would be silent, even in her sleep, _Nora mused, now listening in to Bruce bumbling around the lab a level below. Feeling assured that all was calm in Stark Tower, Nora tuned out, and looked up to see Steve, who was seated across from her with a mug in his hands, watching her with an amused look in his eye.

"Were you listening in?" He asked simply, pushing a second cup towards her with a small pitcher of cream and packets of sugar. She doctored her coffee with a small amount of cream before looking at him quizzically.

"How'd you know?" She asked.

"You had your head tilted to the side a little, and your eyebrows were drawn together. I just guessed." She nodded, mulling over that information. It had never occurred to her that she made a particular face when she was using her advanced hearing. She found the thought rather amusing. "Do you always have to close your eyes, to hear more clearly?"

"Not always. If there's a more audible, ambient noise, my ears automatically tune into it. If I want to focus on my surroundings, it usually takes more effort." She informed him, taking a sip from her coffee and enjoying the immediate warmth spreading through her system. "I didn't realize that I make a certain face when I listen." She added, the corners of her lips uplifting.

"Well, you learn new things every day, don't you?" He joked. She smiled, but immediately sobered, twisting her coffee cup in a circle by pushing on the handle with her index finger.

"Steve, I really am sorry. I was so rude earlier, and you didn't have to help me with my hand. I was being an idiot." She said sincerely, looking him in the eye quickly before returning her gaze down to her spinning cup. He let out a sigh, taking another swig of coffee. She tended to be rather proud; 'I'm Sorry' was a phrase that she didn't use very often at all.

"You weren't being an idiot. And don't worry about the glass; it would have been rude of me to let an injured dame fend for herself." Nora grimaced. She was completely capable of taking care of herself. "Not a dame, a woman. Not that you needed help, I just-ah, sorry." He finished lamely, laughing hopelessly at his own rambling. He quickly wondered if speaking to women would ever get any easier for him.

"Don't worry, I knew what you meant." She chuckled. "It was just kind of embarrassing. I tend to have a temper." She fibbed. While Nora was, in actuality, an even tempered person, being quick to anger was a much easier explanation for her outburst than the truth.

"Like I said, I've been where you are." He said, completely disregarding her obvious white lie. "You don't have to try to explain yourself to me. Or be embarrassed." He finished honestly.

"You've been where I am?" She questioned, an eyebrow raised skeptically. He gulped visibly, worrying that she would lash out again. While he had the patience to understand her anger, he preferred to avoid being subject to it once again. "You've crushed a glass in your hand?" She finished jokingly. He laughed in relief.

"Sweetheart, that's amateur stuff." He went along with it, challenging her with a raised eyebrow of his own. "I knocked down a wall." He said, smirking at the memory of the drywall he had collapsed after he was tipped off by that old Dodgers game. "Along with two SHIELD agents." He added, abashed. He wasn't proud of that specific moment.

"Oh, hardcore." She laughed. "Okay, so you win in the 'uncontrollable anger' department."

"Two years ago, I would have." He offered, taking another swig of his coffee. "I've got a better hold on it now." He said carefully, approaching the situation strategically. More than anything, he wanted her to feel assured that there was a light at the end of the tunnel, so to speak. He wanted her to know that the pain _does _end.

"Earlier," She started, gulping before looking up and into his eyes with a look of curiosity, "you knew so much. It was like you were inside of my head." She thought aloud, gazing at him as if he were a puzzle to be solved. "You've said, twice now, that you've been where I am."

"And I have." She took a deep breath and seemed to break down, her elbows rising to the counter so that she could rest her head in her hands. He saw her fingers weave into the roots of her hair and grip it in fists; her face was hidden from him in a downward angle towards the counter.

"Steve," she whispered dejectedly, her shoulders rising and falling slightly with her shallow breaths, "how did you get out?"

"Nora.." He said softly, forming his next words.

"I'm so tired, Steve." She jumped back in softly. He quickly silenced himself. She needed this. Needed to get it all out of her system. "All I want to do is sleep. But I cant. That _hell hole _messed me up. I cant close my eyes without…without seeing everything over and over again. I don't know what's wrong with me."

"It's a type of shock." He said quietly. "You were used to enduring through pain all of those years. Immune to it, almost. Now that you're in a different setting and your body is allowed to let down it's guard, you're mentally vulnerable to the long term effects that the facility had on you. It takes time to really adjust."

"Just tell me what I have to do." Nora snapped coldly, growing irritated at how hopeless her situation sounded coming from his lips. She sighed, immediately regretting her tone. "Sorry."

"It's fine, believe me. You should have seen me after I finally woke up after all of those years in the ice." He chuckled darkly. "To say I was a burden to handle would be an understatement." Nora found herself thinking that whatever dark side the slumber had brought out in Steve only two years ago, she didn't want to know what it was. She liked the Steve that she was getting to know. The man who was never anything less than kind. She wouldn't have her judgment of him tainted by stories of his past. The past was the past; they would focus on the present.

"I just want to get these images out of my head. I want to forget. When I was living there, the only times I could ever escape my thoughts were when I slept. And now I cant even do that." She said dejectedly. A single tear slid down her cheek, which she quickly wiped away, and Steve couldn't believe the way that one small tear could display more pain than if they were flooding down her cheeks.

"I'm not going to tell you that it's easy." He said sternly, "It's been two years and there are still nights where I don't get any rest. I couldn't at all at first, but I eventually realized that if I had a distraction, my eyes would just slip closed. For a few hours. And then the nightmares would wake me. But it was better than nothing."

"What kind of distraction?" She asked wearily. His cheeks drew a pink blush as he looked down awkwardly.

"Well, uh, I sketch." He said, embarrassed. Nora was surprised to discover that he was the artistic type. He was so masculine, so sturdy, that she found it strange that he partook in a hobby that seemed so…sensitive. But Steve was full of surprises. "I would wear myself down, usually with exercise, until I physically couldn't stand any longer. And then I would start to sketch until my eyes closed on their own. You just have to find something that distracts you. That's the best advice I can give." She nodded, taking every word to heart. If she was being honest with herself, she was scared to fall asleep. She wanted the rest, but she knew that the nightmares that her mind could conjure would be brutal. But if Nora learned anything from the hardships in her life, she learned that you cant back down when you're afraid. Bravery and strength weren't characterized by taking a risk; they were characterized by taking a risk despite your fear to do so. If Nora couldn't face her own fears, what could she face? She stood slowly, her joints aching, and took her now empty coffee mug towards the sink. She gently set it in the base of the sink, standing there for a moment with a vice grip on the counter. She clenched her eyes shut and grit her teeth. She would have to try. Fear was not an option.

"I _will _sleep." She said to him, pure determination ringing in her tone. A glint in his eye began to gather, like clouds before a storm; if Nora wasn't mistaken, it was a look of pride. "I have to forget. I can't keep seeing these things." Just as quickly as that glint in his eye had came, it left.

"If anyone can do it, Doll, it's you." He said supportively, yet seeming slightly apprehensive to continue. "Just know this one thing." She looked at him with wide doe eyes. "Don't forget your pain. It's our pain that makes us who we are." She nodded grimly, an eyebrow raised. Pushing herself off from the counter, she placed her hand on her shoulder as she walked by him, letting it slide down his arm as she moved away. As she reached the hallway, she turned around to face him.

"Well," she started sadly, cradling her arms around her chest as if they were the only things holding her together. "Good night. Hopefully."

"Good night." He repeated, a reassuring smile gracing his lips. "Hopefully."


	12. Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Taking a deep breath, Nora slipped under her covers. She knew that she could do this. She carefully slid her legs underneath the comforter and tucked in sheets, wiggling down until she was laying, stiff as a board, under her covers. What was she supposed to do now? Her breathing became shallow as she felt a small fear flicker in her stomach. Nora had unflinchingly faced brutal enemies and deadly weapons, but her only true fear was that of herself. She could handle everyone else's darknesses. She could defend herself from them. But how was she supposed to defend herself from her own? Just as she was about to shove the covers off and rise from the mattress, she remembered Steve's piece of advice.

_"…If I had a distraction, my eyes would just slip closed."_

Gritting her teeth in determination, Nora reached for the remote and turned on the flat screen. For ten minutes, she attempted to get into the same TV series she had been viewing earlier, but to no avail. She grabbed the remote, about to press the power button again, when she thought of an alternative. Moving her thumb down towards the volume controls, she turned the flatscreen's volume down to the point of inaudibility to the average ear. Then, setting the remote back down on the side table, she trained her ears to the small sounds being emitted from the screen. Finding difficulty hearing each word, she closed her eyes and fine tuned her hearing. She lost herself in the audio, clinging on to each word as it flew from the characters' mouths. Before she knew it, the voices began to fade out as she felt sleep encasing her. In a last minute, fearful attempt to stay awake, her eyes flew open only to grow heavy again. The last thing she saw before succumbing to the darkness was the light gleaming through the crack in her door, and she took comfort in knowing that Steve was just beyond that opening.

LINEBREAK

_Nora's eyes flutter open, taking in the peaceful rays of sunlight streaming in through the cracks in her blinds. She was sprawled on her stomach, her hair splayed beautifully over the soft, white expanse of her pillow. She sat up quickly, shocked at the peaceful night's rest she had just received, and quickly squinched her eyes shut in anticipation of soreness in her joints. She was, perhaps, even more shocked to find that the pain never came. She felt completely rested and healthy, and for the first time in years she let a large and genuine smile dominate her features. She couldn't wait to tell Steve of her progress. Throwing off her thick down comforter, she swung her legs over the bed and sprang up. She trained her eye on her door, which was cracked just as it was the night before, as she practically skipped over to her exit. Just as her hand outstretched toward the doorknob, the door slammed shut. Feeling extremely caged in all of the sudden, Nora desperately turned and pulled at the knob. Finally accepting that her only exit had been taken from her, she sank to the floor and wrapped her arms around her knees, letting out a fearful sob. The walls began to close in on her, their light and breezy, white paint job darkening to a cold concrete. She watched her bed transform into a rickety, and all too familiar, cot. As the walls grew closer, her sobs grew louder. The room continued to shrink, furniture disappearing left and right, until she was left with nothing but a damp prison cell and a dirty cot to sleep on. The only thing that had remained unchanged, Nora noticed, was the door. It was the same white, wooden one that she had left open at the Tower since she had arrived. But now it was closed. And all that she could think about was that Steve was on the other side of that door. And that she may never see him again. Clutching the doorknob for dear life, she rose again. She yanked as hard as she could, desperate to open that door. To get to Steve. To hear Tony make fun of her one more time. To thank Pepper for her hospitality. To prove herself to Clint. But all that she managed to obtain was a numbing fear that she would never get the chance to do any of these things. The knob began to shrink in her hand, and she let out a scream of terror. She pulled at it, refusing to let it sink into the door and out of sight, but wailed in agony when her only lifeline disappeared into the wood. She was hopelessly and inevitably alone. _

_The scene changed. _

_She was paralyzed by absolute terror as she watched a fifteen year old girl talk with her friends on their way home from school. This was her most recent target. The girl had seen too much, and Mr. Price wanted her eliminated. Her limbs moved on their own accord, despite her silent pleas for them to do her will, carrying her stealthily behind the group of girls as they followed their normal route. At the bend in the sidewalk, her target separated from the group. A voice, Mr. Price's voice, inside of her head told her that this was the time to strike. Her brain screamed at her to stop, but her legs persisted in their stalk as she began to corner her prey. The girl cut through an alley, and Nora followed, quickening her pace until she was right behind her victim. Sensing something wrong, the girl turned, but she had been too late. Nora's arms defied her command to stop, shoving the target up against the cold brick. The girl let out a shriek, struggling to break free of Nora's grip. Nora spun her blade in her free hand, bringing it up to the young girl's neck. The girl screamed, tears now falling freely down her cheeks. _

_"Please!" She sobbed, clutching at the arm that held her there. "Please, don't! Don't kill me!" She was crying uncontrollably now, her whole frame shaking. Nora wanted so badly to do as she said. To walk away, both of them with their lives. But Canine…she was a different story. The vicious assassin applied pressure to the blade and swiped, the girl releasing her last cry before crumpling to the ground in a growing pool of blood. For a moment, Nora felt herself gain control of her body. It was only a small moment, but it was long enough for Nora to realize what she had done. What she had been forced to do. She wanted to fall to the ground, next to the innocent young girl, and die a slow, painful death. She deserved it. But just as quickly as her control came, it left. She stood tall and sure, wiping the blood on her hands off on the brick before continuing on the path to the facility that was burned, like a brand, in her memory. She wanted so desperately to run the other way, but her body betrayed her, taking her directly back to her own personal hell. Where she would have nothing to do but to think of the events of this day. And of all the other days just like this one. The sound of the girl's pleads still rang in her ears._

LINEBREAK

Nora woke with a start. She was positioned just as she was before, stiff as a board under her blankets. Her white t-shirt was absolutely soaked in sweat, and her jaw was clenched tight. Her eyes flew frantically to the door, and she was relieved to see that it was just as she left it. She cautiously, and silently, creeped over to the sliver of light present between the frame and the door. She ever so slowly reached out her hand, praying that her fingers would meet the knob. The last thing that she wanted was to realize that her nightmare was a reality. When her fingers wrapped around the cold handle, she exhaled through her nose in elation. She wasn't trapped. Leaning her forehead against the edge of the door, she felt a single tear roll down her cheek. She couldn't believe the torture that her own mind of conjured. What was even harder to believe, however, was that the girl in Nora's dream wasn't a figment of her imagination. The girl was a reality. A memory. A real person that Nora had taken from this world. This left her shaking and scared, two things that Nora hadn't been in a long while. Not since the night that she had received her scar.

LINEBREAK

Steve watched Nora's retreating form as she moved silently down the hallway. He found his respect for the woman growing as she headed towards her fears. He would have never admitted it to her, but she was even stronger than he had been. When he had been in his dark place, it had taken him weeks to entertain the idea of attempting to sleep. And here she was, her third night into the shock cycle, facing her nightmares dead-on. She was one hell of a dame.

After he was sure that she wasn't going to re-emerge, he gingerly rinsed his and Nora's empty coffee mugs and set them in the dish rack to dry before pacing towards his own room. Noticing that Nora's door was, once again, left open, he scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. It hadn't taken long for Steve and most of his Avengers to notice that Nora never put herself behind a closed door. Deciding not to dwell on it (she needed to cope in her own way, and he understood that), he continued three more doors down to his suite. He entered, clicking the door closed behind him. For a moment, he rubbed his thumb and index fingers over his eyes. He didn't like that he couldn't help her. And he didn't like that he couldn't seem to stop thinking about her.

His mother had raised him to be respectful towards women, and he had never seemed to have a problem keeping his thoughts in check. Until Nora. Even Peggy Carter hadn't been able to entice the Captain's indecent side, however small it may have been. He had been careful with her, if not slightly distant. He hadn't wanted to cross any boundaries, whether or not she knew his intentions. But, with Nora…he couldn't seem to stop reveling in the memory of her small frame under his arms that first night. Or the feeling of her firm abdomen beneath his gloved fist as they sparred. Or the way she had, only moments ago, let her hand run down his arm, leaving him with goosebumps. He wasn't proud of the way that he had repeatedly placed his hands on her, despite the fact that his mother had drilled it into his mind: never place your hands on a lady, until she gives you permission to do so. But each touch was like fire; it made him feel like, for the first time, he wasn't destined to be alone in this new world. Sure, he loved his friends and teammates, but he never thought he would meet someone who understood him the way that Nora already seemed to. And the way that Bucky used to, all those years ago.

Heaving a large sigh, he traipsed over to his kitchen counter and picked up his leather-bound sketch book (the only gift from Pepper that Steve had accepted). Flipping it open to the next clean page as he walked, he sat down in the arm chair directly across from his bed. As if on auto-pilot, he began to form delicate lines and shades, his hands moving steadily across the page. He let his mind wander.

As time went by, he became increasingly surprised that he had yet to hear any screaming from Nora's room. When he first slept, the nightmares were so severe that he often woke to people flittering about around him, having heard his loud shouts. He wasn't sure whether to be worried about the resounding silence in the halls of Stark Tower. It was unsettling, knowing that Nora was only three doors down and experiencing pain, yet not making a single noise. It put him on edge.

So he continued to listen.

For hours he sketched mindlessly, waiting for a sound that never came. And just before his eyes began to slip closed, just as they always did, he looked down to see his sketch.

Nora, leaning against the wall as she was earlier that night. Her eyes closed peacefully, her hands cradled to her chest, and her scar emphasized attractively by the hair drawn over the opposite shoulder. Every detail was perfect, down to those freckles on her eyelids that had intrigued him when they had been seated on the launch pad only two nights before.

_Beautiful._ Steve thought, welcoming sleep with open arms.

LINEBREAK

Martin Price was overtaken by sheer, absolute _rage_. His most valuable asset had gotten away, and he had absolutely no idea where to find her.

He _needed_ Canine. But, more importantly, he _needed _the information in Zeitschrift, the diary that he had sent Canine to retrieve. The information that he didn't have now, because his _damn ability_ had failed him once again. And now he was back to square one. He sat in his swivel chair behind his elaborate desk, running a hand over his chin in concentration. He needed a Plan B, and he needed one now. He groaned in frustration. The vitality of this mission couldn't have been emphasized enough, and he wasn't used to having things going downhill. His fortune and success in their entirety were focused on the completion of this mission, and losing his secret weapon hadn't done much for his confidence.

And then, as if a sign from the heavens, he knew the exact man for the job.

Hastily dialing the number of his head of security in his phone and feeling a newfound sense of excitement, he commanded into the speaker, "Send me Malice.".

Agent Blake Carter, codename Malice, was a boy that had been taken into their program around the same time that they had captured Canine. Unlike Canine, who had proven impossible to convert to...the facility's way of thinking, Malice had shown immediate promise. Over time, he had become the facility's most ruthless assassin. The man had a raging fire within him that would not be put out, and the word "hesitation" was simply not in his vocabulary.

As if on cue, Mr. Price heard a knock on his office door.

"Come in, for God's Sake!" He said angrily.

"Mr. Price, sir." Malice said coldly as he entered the room.

"Yes, Malice." Price said, with a new enthusiasm ringing deep and true in his voice. He observed the agent, who stood tall and proud. His short, silvery blond hair glinted under the florescent lighting, his ice blue eyes and sharp cheekbones becoming more defined. An aura of intimidation surrounded him, overtaking the room. Everything about this man radiated pride and power, and both were characteristics that Martin Price valued greatly in his agents. "I have a new mission for you."

"Hell, yeah, you do." Malice chuckled darkly, eagerly leaning in to hear the details of his case.

"When you find her," Price said to him, pointing to the picture of Canine that was included in the case folder. "Bring her to me. Unharmed." Malice had formed an uncharacteristic pout by the end of his command, spinning his blade inbetween his fingers.

"No kills?" he asked, obviously disappointed. Mr. Price smirked at his eager apprentice.

"Not now. But soon."

A wicked smile graced the young man's face, his teeth seeming almost bared in a vicious snarl. Malice looked down at the case file, studying Canine's photo and credentials. Returning his frightening gaze to his boss, he growled,

"Can't wait."


	13. Chapter 12

TWELVE

Coils of steam rose from the tub as Nora slid gracefully into the water, wincing in satisfaction at the heat. She rested her head against the edge, taking a large breath through her nose. Her first night of sleep had taken its toll, leaving her feeling, ironically, more exhausted than ever. Her joints and muscles screamed in relief as the hot water did it's work; she could almost feel each individual cord of muscle stretching and loosening. After wallowing in the water for a while, she picked up the nearest washcloth and began to scrub. She washed her skin raw, running the cloth over her bruises and swollen limbs with vigor. Once she had finished with her body, she used her hands to splash the steaming water into her face. She rubbed her hands over her forehead and cheeks, wincing when they passed over the bruise that Natasha had given her the first night. Once she had rubbed her skin to a raw pink, she once again leaned her head back and closed her eyes. She shut off her hearing, her vision. She focused solely on her memories. She desperately searched for anything; a reason why she was here. Nora, painfully, thought of her time in the facility. Wincing, she reached deep within the confines of her memory, searching for anything that Mr. Price wouldn't have wanted found. She remembered clearly when he came into her cell, retrieving her for the mission. She rubbed her forehead vigorously, as if it would clear the memory of his fingers ever being there when he used his gift against her.

_ "Canine, you have a new mission."_

Her eyebrows rose in surprise. She had never recovered details from a moment when she was under his influence before. Digging deeper in determination, she tried to remember the protocol debriefing that she knew must have taken place afterwards. She found that she could picture Mr. Price at times, his lips moving, holding a folder in his hands, but she couldn't quite retrieve the words. She groaned in frustration, rubbing her fingers over her temples. She needed something. Anything.

_ "Retrieve Zeitschrift."_

It hit her like an answered prayer. But what did it mean? It was German, Nora knew that much.

She had studied German, among many other languages, in the facility for part of her training, but she had yet to reach fluency. After her mastery of simple romance languages like Spanish, French, and Italian, along with more necessary languages including Russian and Mandarin, she had only just begun her study of German when she left for her most recent mission, only to never come back. She couldn't stand the irony of it all; here she was, actually wishing that she had been in the facility just a little bit longer. Long enough to know what the word_ Zeitschrift_ meant. Taking a different approach, she thought of anyone in the tower who might know the significance of the word. Sure, anyone could translate it, but she needed someone who might know what it truly meant, and why Mr. Price would want it. Her best guess was Pepper, considering that she seemed to deal with most of the paperwork and information revolving around Stark Industries. In fact, Stark Industries was Nora's best guess as to why she was even here in the first place. There were many reasons why she could've been lead there, to Stark Tower. The Avengers, no doubt, were one. But what would Price want more than advanced and formidable weapons, with which he could equip his readily trained soldiers? They would be considerably more threatening; practically unstoppable. They would practically have free reign to…to… To what? Nora didn't know. Amongst all of these questions and uncertainties, Nora knew one thing. If _Zeitschrift_ is a weapon, there was only one force that would be able to stop Price and his army. One team that would live together, or die together, if they were to fight Martin Price.

And she was within one hundred feet of them all.

Nora desperately wished that she didn't understand; being in the center of all the Avengers might have been exactly where Mr. Price wanted her all along. She felt like she could be a ticking time bomb in Stark Tower, waiting to explode.

LINEBREAK

Malice prowled through an alley, cloaked in the darkness. He knew where he was headed. Stark Tower; where his target was last heard from. However, he also knew that this wasn't his average mission. He couldn't just barge in and take her. He wouldn't just find her, following an obvious trail and amateur mistakes. She was smart. And she was fast. And she was strong.

_ But I'm smarter. I'm faster. I'm stronger. _

He smirked, eyeing the cute shape of a drunk young woman who was staggering ahead of him, completely unaware of the danger that lurked only a block away. For a moment, he appraised her. The swing of her hips as she followed the sidewalk, carrying her heels by their straps in one hand. The skin tight dress that she had worn for her obvious night out was riding up her thighs, and she was far too intoxicated to notice or care. So oblivious. So appealing.

_ So vulnerable_.

He thought, considering the pros and cons of a quickie in an alley somewhere. He didn't doubt that he could convince her to have a little…fun…and disposing of her would be easy as pie. He would be able to snap her neck before she even knew what she had gotten herself into. While the situation certainly had its merits, he knew better. He had a mission. And the mission always came first. Particularly this one. This one was personal. He needed a plan of action. The last she was heard from, Canine had breeched the security of Stark Tower. Her case file states that she was to head to the CEO's office, retrieve _Zeitschrift,_ and return to Price. Safe and sound. No kills, no risks.

So where did it all go wrong?

It wasn't news that Canine wasn't typically cooperative. She was only of use under Mr. Price's influence, and even then she wasn't as easily held in the state as more human agents were. It was highly possible that her disappearance was the result of the fracture of the trance. She could've woken up on her way back to the facility, and made her escape. With _Zeitschrift._

_ No_.

He corrected himself, still stalking in the shadows steadily behind the young woman. _Zeitschrift_ is more important to Price than Canine. If she had escaped with the package, he would've ordered him to kill her, and retrieve it for him. No, she hasn't gotten it yet.

That's why he needs her alive. Her freak talents are the only way he can get to it.

She must've come out of the trance before she retrieved the package on the flash drive. In Stark Tower. This means there are only three places she could be. On the streets, after fleeing the Tower in a haze of confusion and relief. Captured by SHIELD, having been caught in her disoriented and weakened state. Or still in the Tower, taking refuge with the god damned Avengers. While the latter seemed highly unlikely, he couldn't put anything past that band of freaks. If there was anyone on this planet that would take in a stray like Canine, it was them. All it would take was her good old sob story, and those softies would be hooked. Sure, a few of the slightly more respectable ones like Clint Barton and Natasha Romanov, perhaps even Tony Stark, would be more open to tossing her out. But he had no doubt in his mind that Pepper Potts and the Star Spangled Freak would take to her like a lost little puppy, rather than the rabid dog that she really was. The more that he thought of this possibility, the more he believed it to be true. He could see it now. Canine being taken under the wing of the Avengers, conveniently in the heart of the largest threat posed to the facility. With the possible memory of _Zeitschrift_, and knowledge of the facility. Everything she would need to take the facility down, once and for all. Oh, it was all beginning to make sense to the cold and calculating agent. This was why Price was so desperate to retrieve her. It would only take a single memory, a tiny word to her new friends, and all could be lost. Yes, he was beginning to understand exactly where he would be able to find her.

Taking his eyes off of the busty blonde for only a moment, he looked up to the skyline. Stark Tower shined bright in the darkness, illuminating the space around it with its distinctly blue light. It stuck out in the mix of buildings and sky scrapers like a sore thumb, and he chuckled out loud at how easy this would be. Hiding in plain sight almost never worked. Did Canine really think that she was safe? That the facility wouldn't retrieve her? He looked down at her case file picture in his facility-issued phone. She was tauntingly pretty, and he couldn't help but think that Mr. Price wouldn't mind if he got to have his way with her before turning her back in. He literally felt himself harden in anticipation. She would be the ultimate prize; her capture would be the perfect display of his dominance. He took one last, greedy glance at her photo before returning his phone deep into the confines of the pocket in his leather jacket. Looking at Stark Tower once more, he thought to himself.

_ See you soon, sweetheart._

The drunken party girl ahead of him stumbled for the fiftieth time, spilling the contents of her purse all over the sidewalk. She muttered quiet curse words to herself, scooping the random items back up and into the bag. He eyed an alleyway just ahead of her location.

_ Well, I might make a quick pit stop first._

LINEBREAK

After Nora had toweled herself dry, she threw on a pair of skinny jeans, rolled to a cuff at the ankles, and a white tank. She felt a new sense of purpose after the retrieval of her most recent memory. For the first time since she had escaped, she didn't feel as though she were stuck in time; she didn't feel entirely useless, as if she were merely taking up space in this Tower full of people who had enough purpose for thousands. They all had something to fight for, people to fight for. And she wanted the same for herself. She wanted to use her abilities for good, the same way these people do every day. If destroying the facility was the first step, then she was more than happy to oblige.

But she couldn't do it alone. Being alone was the last thing she wanted. She had been alone for most of her life, kept from culture and friendship. Kept from a normal life. In a matter of only three nights, she had grown an attachment to the people in this house that she wasn't sure she could live without. She couldn't imagine a life without Steve in it. Or Bruce. Or Natasha, even. She somehow knew that this was exactly where she was meant to be.

It was then, looking around her cozy suite that already felt like home, that Nora knew. She knew that she wanted to be a part of the family. She wanted a place to belong.

She wanted to be a part of the Avengers.


	14. Chapter 13

THIRTEEN

Pepper woke to the feeling of Tony's chest rising and falling against her back, and she could feel his hot breath on the nape of her neck. Cracking her eyes open, she settled her gaze on the clock that was placed atop of their bedside table.

_5:07 am_

Doing her best not to smile, Pepper gently slid out from under the covers and Tony's arm. She loved to wake up ahead of schedule. It gave her that extra time in the morning to sit and enjoy breakfast, and occasionally watch the sunrise behind the New York City skyline. Briefly looking down to Tony, her smile grew larger. She adored how sweet and innocent he looked when he was sleeping. His sarcasm and dry humor were his defense mechanisms, but she was always pleased to see how they would immediately disintegrate in his sleep. He didn't need protection here. This was the only place that he was _just _Tony.

After taking a relaxing shower and dressing in her signature business-casual attire, she strolled out to their kitchen for a light breakfast and a perfect view. Perching on a bar stool with her fruit and yogurt parfait in hand, she faced the wide wall of spotless glass windows. She loved to watch the lights all over the city turn on, gradually, as people would wake up and get ready for work. Sometimes she would try to count the number of windows that became alight with life, but to no avail. It always amazed her to think that, behind each window that she counted, there was a life completely separate from her own.

Fully absorbed in the world around her, she missed the soft sound of someone else entering the kitchen.

"Beautiful sunrise, isn't it?" Nora asked quietly. Jumping slightly at the sudden noise, Pepper placed a hand over her heart in surprise before turning to her left with a smile.

"Oh, you scared me!" Pepper joked, letting out a light laugh. "Yes, absolutely stunning. I love the way that the light pokes out from in between the buildings."

Nora allowed herself a soft smile, and Pepper looked her over once with a worried eye. The girl looked pained and gaunt, with dark bags under her eyes and a large, yellowing bruise covering the temple that Natasha had punched. It was obvious that she had barely slept, much less eaten anything.

"I noticed that the very first night here, actually. I couldn't sleep, so I sat out on the launch pad. Watched the sun come up."

Pepper found it intriguing that a woman as dark and mysterious as the dead of night would find interest in something delicate and peaceful like a sunrise. It only functioned as an awful reminder that Pepper knew very little about their new house guest. With this realization, however, came a relief that they had an interest in common. Something to spark an interaction, which, with patience and care, could later bloom into a friendship. Pepper wasn't sure if Nora was interested, but she found herself wanting to know her as a person. She felt a deep sympathy for the obvious pain that the woman was in, and she knew that, more than anything, she needed friends who could help her through it. Smiling at her chance to converse with Nora, she continued.

"My personal favorite is the One World Trade Center. Don't you just love the way that the sunlight reflects and gleams off of the surface of it? I can almost see the light dancing." Pepper's smile was wide. Turning to the woman now seated beside her, however, her grin almost immediately dropped. Nora's eyes were searching the skyline from left to right, and a small frown was gracing her lips.

"I'm sorry." Nora said, finally lowering her gaze and gripping the edge of the countertop with force. "I don't know which building you're talking about."

Pepper internally groaned, wanting to slap her forehead at her own stupidity. Of course the girl wouldn't know which building was the One World Trade Center. She hadn't been able to see it in progress, or to hear about it on the news. If Pepper had to guess the number of buildings that Nora could name or pinpoint in the skyline, it would be smaller than small. Miniscule. And now she was so obviously upset. In less than five minutes, she had managed to remind Nora about everything that she had missed out on while she was held captive. Her life. Her culture. Her family. Her city.

_Oh, I am such an idiot. Nice going, Pepper. Way to make her feel welcome._

"It's the one right here," Pepper started gently, pointing her finger towards the massive tower, "they just finished building the structure last week. It's kind of interesting, because it's currently the tallest building in the United States. You can imagine how that rubs Tony the wrong way. He's been mentioning how he knew he should've made Stark Tower just a few floors taller. Maybe added a penthouse. Mr. Drama Queen has to be the biggest and the baddest in anything that he does." She finished with a chuckle, hoping that she had made up for her mistake. She found it appalling that Nora was just thrown into the cultural world with absolutely no warning, and no chance to get out there and see what she was missing. It was then that the idea struck her.

"Hey, would you want to get out of here today? You and me?" Pepper asked, turning to Nora with a hesitant smile.

"Oh, no, I couldn't. I wouldn't know what to do out there."

"Well, that's what you have me for, isn't it?" Pepper said kindly. The usually intimidating and mysterious spy was now fidgeting in her seat, wringing her hands together.

"Don't you have to work today? I don't want to mess up your schedule; you've already been so nice to me by letting me stay here."

"Don't mention it." The CEO said, not bothering to allow her a way out. She happened to think that a little fresh air was exactly what Nora needed. "Besides, I'll take any excuse to play hooky. It keeps Tony on his toes, which normally means that he can spend less time bothering everyone else."

Her jab at her boyfriend took its desired effect, earning a small laugh from Nora. All of the sudden, Pepper didn't feel like making friends with her would be so difficult after all.

LINEBREAK

Nora silently marveled at the world around her through the limousine window. She recognized the buildings from photos that she used to observe in her history lessons, and she saw a few streets and alleyways that she wished she couldn't remember. She felt highly uncomfortable, stepping foot out of the tower without any clue as to how to be normal. Without a mission to carry out. A person to kill. She was seeing the world just for the hell of it, and she was reveling in its beautiful mystique.

"So, I'm not taking you back to the Tower until you've let me buy you some food." Pepper joked, digging through her purse for her sunglasses. Nora found herself wondering why she needed them; the sunlight that morning wasn't particularly bright. "I'll bet you're starving."

"To say that would be an understatement." Nora joked, rubbing her empty stomach in anticipation. Normally, she would refuse such an offer, but she got the feeling that Pepper didn't generally take 'no' for an answer. Plus, she was hungry. Hungrier than she should've allowed herself to become. It was usually very important to Nora to take care of her body. "I could go for some breakfast, if you're sure it's alright."

Nora seemed to have spoken the magic words, because the CEO's eyes took on an excited glint as she snapped her fingers once in elation.

"Breakfast! Great idea. I know a fantastic little diner just around the corner. Their blueberry pancakes are _to die for._ Happy, could you swing around to Maggie's?" She asked the driver, before turning back to Nora with a large and genuine smile. "This is going to be so much fun."

Perhaps it was something about the way she said it, or the way that she was just so unbelievably _Pepper_, but Nora was actually beginning to believe her. She could feel a small warmth growing inside of her body, circulating through her entire being. She allowed a tiny, but undeniably _real_ smile to trace her lips.

"Yeah, I think it will be."

LINEBREAK

He watched the two beautiful women exit the car. Pepper, the taller and less curvy of the two, stretched out her arms and spun in a quick circle. Even from his hideout across the street, he could hear her mentioning how this was a "glorious day". He almost laughed aloud at Canine's pathetic attempt at a smile. Observing her, she looked pained and weak; her limbs seemed to be dead weight, dragging sluggishly as she walked, and she was sporting deep circles under her eyes. Yes, taking her would be extraordinarily easy. Weak, tired, and confused, Canine would be an easier target than her skills normally permitted, and he knew that he would need to strike soon. Today. Before she could regain her strength.

He was absolutely _adoring_ every difficult step she made towards the door of the run-down diner, and every wince that she made as she endured what must have been a brutal pain in her small frame. _This _was the infamous Canine. This small, wounded girl was the "deadly" assassin that he was raised to fear. The only pupil in the facility that surpassed all of the rest. She was brutal. She was cunning. She was unstoppable.

And he had found her in less than twenty four hours.

It had been that easy. Even Malice himself had to admit that he was expecting more of a challenge. Either she was really confident in her skills, as if she were egging him on with her sudden appearance in broad daylight, or she was ignorant of the fact that the facility would send agents out after her. And, as Canine timidly and gingerly sat opposite the blonde in the small diner, he couldn't quite picture her saying: "_I'm here. Come and get me."_

Sharply jutting his head from side to side, cracking his neck in anticipation, he slid back into the shadows of the alley. Like a crouched cat, waiting to pounce, he patiently observed the two women. The time to attack was coming.

LINEBREAK

"Oh, you should have seen it! Mr. Hot-Shot Billionaire was blushing for thirty minutes straight! I'll never let him forget it." Giggled Pepper in elation, taking a sip through the straw in her diet cola after finishing a long and humorous story at her boyfriend's expense. Even Nora, who had barely taken a breath between the stacks of pancakes that kept on coming, had released a couple of genuine chuckles. Despite the way that she knew Pepper loved to tease Tony, she felt a pang of jealousy at the obvious love and affection that she held for him in her crystal blue eyes. Letting her fork and knife gently come to rest on the edges of the plate, she leaned back, into the booth, completely content. She felt a renewed strength in her body after she had fed herself, and the aching in her joints and muscles seemed to have lessened. With a hand on her stomach, she looked to Pepper.

"You and Tony seem really happy," she stated shyly, "I'd never really had that before with anyone."

"Past tense noted." Pepper quipped, raising her eyebrows suggestively. "Have you met a certain someone?" She practically sang the last two words. Nora internally groaned, knowing exactly whom Pepper was referring to, but utilized her well practiced poker face.

"I have no idea what your talking about." She stated convincingly, furrowing her brows in mock confusion.

"Nice try, sister, but it doesn't work on me." Nora was appalled. She had never met a human being that her skills in lying and neutral facials couldn't fool. Pepper, noting that Nora was surprised, quickly added, "Keep in mind, I was Tony's assistant for years. I can see right through any brand of bullshit."

Not expecting the vulgar language, Nora let out a quick giggle and looked down in embarrassment. It seemed that Pepper had a super power after all. Looking down at her hands, she let out a sigh. It was looking like she was stuck now.

"Alright, so say that there was a guy." She began, eyes narrowing at Pepper's obvious attempts to hold in a squeal and small victory dance. "And, say that he understands me. How would I know that I'm not just making it all up in my head? I mean, this guy," she huffed, struggling to keep the situation hypothetical, "_if he existed_, is probably the first source of any type of affection that I've ever had. He's probably just being nice, and I've looked at it the wrong way. It's not like I have much to go on anyway. I can't say that I've had a lot of experience with that type of scenario." Pepper looked to the woman with kind eyes, finding her obvious discomfort endearing. From her averted gaze, down to her intertwined fingers that kept twisting and squeezing together, it was obvious that Nora was sincerely nervous at the change in topic. Pepper knew to tread lightly.

"Well," she began with a soft smile, "If this guy is the one that I'm thinking of, you're definitely not looking at it the wrong way." Nora drew in a sharp breath, completely agitated with the fluttering feeling in her stomach. "I don't see you two much, but its already become clear within a matter of days that you're a better companion for him than any of us could ever be. The two of you, you have a connection. I noticed it the very first night that you were with us. The way that he was so quick to defend you. The way that he reacted to your story, or how he always seems to be near you, and you to him. Whether or not it leads you down a romantic road," Nora grimaced, "is completely up to you. I just hope that you value and respect that connection, however you want to go from here. Even if its just as friends, Steve needs you. He's such a strong leader, with a lot of heart and resolve, but there are very few people who can relate to what he's gone through. He needs someone just as strong, who can understand him and help him to move on."

There were many things that Nora wanted to say. She wanted to tell Pepper that there was no way that she was that girl. She wanted to rant about how she's felt nothing but weak the past three days, and that Steve needed someone better than her. She also wanted to ask what she should do next. She wanted to ask what it was like to be with someone. She wanted to admit that a part of her _wanted _this. Wanted it badly. But she couldn't say any of these things. Her pride and her fear of appearing weak wouldn't allow her to do so. So, instead, she brought up a new topic. A more important one.

"I have something else I need to say." Nora started, her body automatically tensing up as she observed her surroundings. She was purely in business-mode now, making sure that no one would overhear anything that she was about to say. "I retrieved some memory. Memory from my debriefing the night that I attacked you." Pepper's eyes widened slightly as she leaned forward in order to hear Nora's hushed tone. "Price wanted me to retrieve something from your office. I don't think that I was meant to be interrupted. Attacking you wasn't part of the plan."

"Well what would he want? What would he want that I have?" Pepper asked Nora as much as she asked herself, "Would it have to do with a Stark Weaponry prototype? Because that information cant be found on my everyday office desktop. Surely Price would know that?"

Nora was taken aback at the knowledge that the possibility of desired weaponry was ruled out. What on Earth would be so important to Price, but in such a low-security area like Pepper's office?

"Here's the thing," Nora continued, not quite liking the feeling that she was getting in the pit of her stomach. Something wasn't right. Brushing it off, she continued to whisper to Pepper across the table. "I can remember one phrase, in particular. He told me to retrieve something called _Zeitschrift. _I've worked out that the word is German, but my knowledge in the language isn't extensive. Does it sound like something you know of? Something you have?"

"No, never." Pepper said, and Nora couldn't help but check for tell-tale signs of lying; fidgetting, perspiration, shallow breathing, lack of eye contact. Pepper was distressed by the content of the situation, but otherwise seemed sincere in denying having any knowledge on the object. Nora was at a loss. "But maybe we could translate the word. Let me get my phone."

Ignoring Pepper's quiet rambling as she fumbled for her phone, Nora muttered a quick "I'm gonna go to the bathroom", before casually exiting the booth. Faking a stretch, she plopped the jacket that she was carrying onto the ground. Quickly crouching down in order to pick it up, she set her gaze on the street just outside of the diner's glass windows. This was the perfect place to see but not be seen, as a set of table and chairs for four was obscuring her crouched frame from view. She took this short opportunity to observe. The pedestrians on the street were all moving at a rather fast pace, none of them seeming to take interest in the small diner. She didn't notice any parked cars in their line of sight. But, if it were her, she wouldn't have staked out in a parked car, or on a street-side bench. No, if it were Nora, she would have hidden in the alley across the street. To see, but not to be seen. And it was in the shadows of that dark alley that she saw a dark form, barely visible, but keenly observing from aside the brick wall. He was well hidden, and most certainly invisible to the human eye. But Nora didn't exactly have your average 20/20 vision. Just as she had suspected, they were being watched. She welcomed the familiar pump of adrenaline through her veins. They had found her.

But she wasn't going down without a fight. And she sure as hell wasn't letting Pepper go down with her.

Quickly standing back up with the jacket in her hand, she sat back down in the booth with an air of nonchalance. She couldn't leave Pepper, now that she knew that one small absence to the restroom could lead to an abduction.

"I thought you had to go to the bathroom…?" Pepper asked in confusion, "I'm trying to figure out how to spell this damn word in Google Translate. Obviously, it starts with a _Z_, but after that-"

"Pepper." Nora interrupted, immediately grabbing the young CEO's attention with her stern tone. "Do not make any noticeable changes in facial expression. Do not look away from me. Act as though everything is completely normal. Make no sudden movements."

"Okay, I don't under-"

"Pepper, we're being watched. Once again, do not break eye contact with me. You're facing the window, and the person watching will be watching you for tip-offs because they cant see me. Just relax, and pay attention. They're in the alley, across the street. I'm assuming they're from the facility, which means that, in theory, I can take them. I know their moves. I know their agents. I know that Price probably wants me alive, so they wont be aiming to kill. They'll be aiming to capture. But we're not going down without a fight. I have a plan, but you have to do as I say, alright?"

Pepper nodded meekly, her breathing accelerated as she struggled to remain calm.

"Just attempt to look casual. Nod your head every now and then, and give a few fake smiles. Maybe a laugh. Just act as though I'm telling you a funny story, okay Pepper?" Pepper nodded again, smiling a small smile that didn't reach her eyes. She leaned in slightly, as if intrigued to hear what Nora had to say.

"Great." Nora said approvingly as she slowly removed the bandage on her palm. She felt a slight sting as the cold air hit her fresh stitches. Grinding her teeth, she wrapped the bandage around her opposite palm and re-fastened it. "Alright. Are you ready to go?" She asked with a reassuring smile, stepping out of the booth and sliding her arms through the sleeves of her jacket. Pepper, looking slightly alarmed but going with the change of events, stepped out as well. Arm in arm, they walked out of the front door of the diner, "Pepper, lead the way. I want to see this shop that you told me about." Nora said at a normal volume, giving Pepper's arm a squeeze. Pepper stumbled forward, mumbling something about a boutique and heading down the street. Once their backs were turned to the observer whom Nora knew was now following at a safe distance, she said quietly under her breath, "You're doing great, Pepper. Very convincing. How soon can the car get back to the entrance of the diner?"

"I don't know, ten minutes? The driver wasn't expecting us so early!" Pepper panicked, gripping on to Nora for dear life.

"It's alright. Ten minutes is perfect. Here's what I want you to do." Nora instructed as they turned a corner, "We're going to keep walking, until we find an empty alley. Gradually increase pace, nothing too noticeable. We need a head start on him, but we cant tip him off. When we enter the alley, we wont have much time. As soon as we turn that corner, you run straight through to the other side, you understand? Run straight through to the parallel street, and head back to the diner as quickly as you can. Get in the car, and go back to the Tower. I'll meet you there."

"What? No. I'm not leaving you!" Pepper whispered frantically. "What if-"

"Pepper, I'm going to be fine. I'll meet you there." Nora tried to reassure her, but was unsure herself of what the outcome of this would be. She was weakened, and if Price sent the agent that she suspected he did, it would be difficult. Spotting an upcoming alley, she notified Pepper with a soft squeeze to her arm. "Here it comes, Pepper. Remember the plan. I'll meet you at the Tower."

"Nora, I can't-"

"The plan, Pepper."

They turned the corner, and Pepper was off. Her ballet flats clicked softly against the brick as she sprinted to the other opening of the alley and turned left, making a loop back towards the diner. Spotting a fire escape just over the center of the alleyway, Nora made a break for it, hauling herself up the ladder and out of immediate sight. Once she was crouched defensively on the platform, she held her breath as her opponent entered the alley, letting out a menacing chuckle when he found that the girls had seemingly disappeared. But she knew this agent. And she knew that this rouse wouldn't fool him for long. Silently gripping the thigh-high bar that normally held people inside of the platform, she waited until he was directly beneath her.

And then she pounced.

Flipping over the fence, she landed with a soft thud just behind him, releasing a small growl.

"Malice." She said invitingly, cracking her knuckles in anticipation. "I knew Price would send you."

"I find that hard to believe," his cold, menacing voice rang out, echoing as it bounced off of the brick walls in the alley, "considering that it was pitifully easy to track you down. For someone who was expecting me, you didn't do the best job of covering your tracks."

Nora pounced, not having the time or patience for words. Strike after strike, blow after blow, the two fought as equals. Where one was driven by hatred and, well, malice, the other was driven by a bone-deep need for revenge. This was the real world, the world that the facility had taken away from her. Sending their best and brightest home with several scrapes and bruises was the least she could do to repay them. He sent a fist towards her chin, but she deflected it with her grasp, bending his arm painfully at the elbow. Releasing a roar of rage, Malice returned the favor with a swift kick that swept her off of her feet. After settling on top of her, straddling her lap, he landed another harsh blow to her jaw line. Spitting the blood that gushed into her mouth up and into his face, she kicked him in the back of his head with one of her free feet. Using his disorientation and her strength, she flipped them over and landed three consecutive punches to his nose, feeling a great deal of satisfaction at the sickening crunches that seemed to erupt beneath her fist. Weakened by her brutal assault, Malice eyed the bandage on he left palm. Immediately clutching it and digging his fingers in sharply, he expected a cry of pain and an opportunity to escape her hold after his assault of the injury. He was surprised, however, that the move only earned an all-knowing smirk from the assassin above him.

"I knew you would do that." She said tauntingly, striking him once more in the eye socket with her clenched right fist. And again. And again. Lifting him up by his shirt collar, she looked into his eyes, which were glazed over as he came in and out of consiousness. He struggled beneath her, but his strength was drained. "The stitches are on this hand, dumbass." She put them on display as she held her open hand up close to his face. Just as quickly as he had seen that she had fooled him, he saw her hand enclose to a fist once again as she took her final strike. Head hitting the concrete with a thud, he groaned in pain. She primly lifted herself off of him, wiping his blood off of her hands with her jacket. He shakily stood back up, stumbling towards her as if he could still stand a chance. Wishing that she could admire his determination, she knocked his legs out from under him once more, adding in a swift kick to his ribcage for good measure. Noticing that the black Stark Industries car had pulled up to the opposite entrance of the alley, she rushed to the car door and got in, letting herself take a breath. The tires screeched against the pavement as they sped off, and Nora groaned in pain.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I know you said to go to the Tower, but I couldn't leave you!" Pepper said frantically, practically hyperventilating with panic. "Oh, my God, Nora. You're bleeding! A lot." She practically screamed, hands fluttering uselessly as she inspected Nora's injuries.

"You should see the other guy." Nora stated darkly, without a trace of humor. She couldn't help but want to panic, just as Pepper was, at the thought that she had barely made it out of there. If she hadn't moved her bandage…if he had hurt her pre-injured hand and gotten up from under her…

She looked down at the cut on her palm, from which the stitches had unraveled and blood was seeping. Using grit and adrenaline to bear through the pain that seemed to be everywhere, she wrapped her bandage around the appropriate hand once more. She hated to think it, but if the facility had found her…

Things were about to become a lot more difficult.


End file.
